Ii!i': 


Wh 


fu 


tir 


nkKyf(<v,r,,^ff 


:Hni[l  iafi 


mm 


mmni 


m0€m 


■i\m 


m 


iiiii 


';( 


li  I 


f !  ill  li '•■  Ijiiii' i 


111,;!!' 


LIBRARY 

PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

No.  fe^,  f'^i^^l-^r^ 

No.   >SMf,Sp.clion      ^..., 

No.  Book,  [^ 

'      W>]  ~.. ^ 


The  John  I>I.  Krebs  Donation, 


BR  305  .M4 71 3  1841  vV3 
Merle  d'Aubign  e,  J.  h   179.! 

-1872. 
History  of  the  great       i 

reformation  of  the        ! 


HISTORY 


OF   THE 


GREAT    REFORMATION 


OF    THE 


SIXTEENTH  CENTURY 


IN 


GERMANY,   SWITZERLAND,  &c. 


BY 


^      J.   H.   MERLE    D'AUBIGNE, 

PRESIDENT    OF    THE    THEOLOGICAL    SCHOOL    OF   GENEVA,    AND 
MEMBER   OF   THE    "  SOCIETE    EVANGELIQUE." 


VOL.  .III. 

FIRST    AMERICAN,    FROM    THE    FIFTH    LONDON    EDITION. 


NEW  YORK: 
ROBERT    CARTER,    58    CANAL   STREET. 

1842. 


r#      ¥  Mik-&^-^'^^^^ 


PREFACE 


At  a  period  when  increased  attention  is  everywhere 
drawn  to  those  original  documents  which  form  the 
basis  of  Modern  History,  I  gladly  add  my  mite  to  the 
general  stock. 

In  the  former  portion  of  this  work,  my  attention 
was  not  confined  to  the  historians  of  the  time,  but  I 
judged  it  right  to  compare  the  testimony  of  the  wit- 
nesses, letters,  and  earliest  accounts ;  and  had  recourse 
to  the  authority  of  manuscripts,  particularly  one  by 
Bullinger,  which  has  since  been  printed. 

But  the  necessity  for  recourse  to  unpublished  docu- 
ments became  more  urgent  when  I  approached  the 
Reformation  in  France.  The  printed  materials  for 
a  history  of  the  Reformed  opinions  in  that  country  are 
few  and  scanty,  owing  to  the  state  of  continued  trial 
in  which  the  Reformed  congregations  have  existed. 

In  the  spring  of  1838,  I  examined  the  various  public 
libraries  of  Paris,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  a  manuscript 
preserved  in  the  Royal  Library,  and  never  (as  I 
believe,)  before  consulted,  throws  much  light  on  the 
commencement  of  the  Reformation. 

In  the  autumn  of  1839,  I  consulted  the  manuscripts 
in  the  library  of  the  conclave  of  pastors  of  Neufchatel, 
a  collection  exceedingly  rich  in  materials  for  the  his- 
tory of  that  age,  since  it  includes  the  manuscripts  of 
Farel's  library.  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  the 
lord  of  the  manor  of  Meuron,  for  the  use  of  a  manu- 


IV  PREFACE. 

script  life  of  Farel,  written  by  Choupard,  in  which 
most  of  these  documents  are  introduced.  These  ma- 
terials have  enabled  me  to  reconstruct  an  entire  phase 
of  the  Reformation  in  France.  In  addition  to  the 
above  helps,  and  those  supplied  by  the  Library  of  Ge- 
neva, an  appeal  inserted  by  me  in  the  columns  of  the 
Archives  du  Christianisine.  led  to  other  communications 
from  private  individuals,  to  whom  I  here  return  my 
grateful  acknowledgments, — and  especially  to  M.  La- 
devese,  pastor  at  Meaux. 

It  may  be  thought  that  I  have  treated  at  too  much 
detail  the  early  progress  of  the  Reformed  opinions  in 
France ;  but  those  particulars  are  in  truth  very  little 
known.  The  entire  period  occupying  my  Twelfth 
Book  has  but  four  pages  allotted  to  it  by  Beza ;  and 
other  historians  have  done  little  more  than  record  the 
political  progress  of  the  nation. 

Many  causes  have  combined  to  postpone  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  present  volume.  Twice — has  heavy 
affliction  interrupted  the  labour  of  its  composition,  and 
gathered  my  affections  and  my  thoughts  at  the  graves 
of  beloved  children.  The  reflection  that  it  was  my  duty 
to  glorify  that  adorable  Master,  who  was  dealing  with 
me  by  such  moving  appeals,  and  at  the  same  time 
ministering  to  me  of  His  heavenly  consolations,  could 
alone  inspire  me  with  the  courage  required  for  its 
completion. 

Auz  Eaxcx  Vives 
pres  freneve. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  III. 


BOOK    IX.— Page  9. 

Aspect  of  the  Church — Effects  of  Luther's  Teaching — Wisdom  of  God — 
Agitation  of  the  People — Luther  and  Melancthon — Tidings  of  Luther's 
Safety — The  Imperjal  Edict  Powerless — The  "  Knight  George" — A 
Safe  Solitude — Luther's  Sickness — Alarm  of  his  Friends — The  Con- 
fessional— Luther's  Health — Feldkirchen's  Marriage — Marriage  of 
Priests — And  of  Friars — Monkery — Luther  on  Monastic  Vows — 
Dedication  to  His  Father — Sale  of  Indulgences  Resumed — Luther's 
Letler  to  Spalatin — Luther  to  the  Cardinal  Elector — Effect  of  the 
Reformer's  Letter — Albert  to  Luther- — Joachim  of  Brandenburg — 
"  The  Last  shall  be  First"— Luther's  Fitness  for  the  Work— Of 
Translating  the  Scriptures — Luther  and  Satan — Luther  Quits  the 
Wartburg — The  Sorbonne — Luther's  Visit  to  Wittemburg — Progress 
of  the  Reformation — The  Monk  Gabriel — Interference  of  the  Elector 
— Frederic's  Caution — Attack  on  Monkery — Thirteen  Monks  duitthe 
Convent — The  Cordeliers  Threatened— Decision  of  Monastic  Vows — 
CaHstadt's  Zeal— The  Lord's  Supper — Town  Council  ofWittemburg 
— Errors  of  Popery — Fanatics  of  Zwickau — The  New  Prophet — 
Nicolas  Hussman — Melancthon  and  Stubner — Melancthon's  Per- 
plexity— Carlstadt's  Zeal — Contempt  of  Learning — Occupations  of 
the  Elector — Luther's  Dejection — His  Test  of  Inspiration — Edict  of 
the  Diet — Luther  Leaves  the  Wartburg — Primitive  Church — Two 
Swiss  Students— A  Strange  Knight — Supper  at  the  Inn^— Lnther  on 
His  Journey — Letter  to  the  Elector — Reception  at  Wittemburg — 
Meditation — Luther  Preaches — Faith  and  Love — God's  Way — Luther 
on  the  Lord's  Supper — Effect  of  Luther's  Sermons — Luther's  Modera' 
tion  and  Courage — Stubner  and  Cellarius — Order  Restored— -Scripture 
and  Faith — The  Visionary  Pen — Publication  of  the  New  Testament — 
Effects  of  Luther's  Translation — The  "  Loci  Communes" — Original 
Sin — Free  Will — Knowledge  of  Christ — Effect  of  Melancthon's 
Tract — Henry  VIII — Catherine  of  Arragon — Bishop  Fisher  and  Sir 
Thomas  More — Cardinal  Wolsey— Henry  VIII.  Writes  against 
Luther — Royal  Theology — The  King'g  Vanity— Luther's  Indignation 
—  His  Reply  to  Henry  VIII — Literary  Courtesy — More's  Attack 
upon  Luther — Henry's  Attachment  to  More — Henry's  Letter — Spread 
of  the  Reformation— The  Augustine  Monks— The  Franciscans— The 
People  and  the  Priests— The  New  Preachers — Power  of  the  Scrip- 
tures— Religion  and  Literature— The  Press — Spread  of  Luther's 
Writings — Luther  at  Zwickau — Duke  Henry — Ibach  at  Rome — 
Diffusion  of  the  Light — University  ofWittemburg — Principles  of  the 
Reformation — Transition  State  of  the  Church. 


BOOK    X.— Page  124. 

Movement  in   Germany — War  between  Francis  I.  and   Charles   V — 

Inigo    Lopez    de   Reculde— Siege   of   Parnpeluna— Loyola's    Armed 

Vigil— Enters    a    Dominican    Convent— Mental    Distress—"  Strong 

Delusions"—"  Belief  of  a  Lie"— Amusement  of  the  Pope— Death  of 

1* 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

Leo  X— Character  of  Adrian  VI— The  Pope  attempts  a  Rpformatio33 
— Opposition  at  Rome — Designs  against  Luther — Diet  at  Nurernburg 
— Oriiancler  at  Nurernburg — The  Pope's  Candour— ResoJution  of  the 
Diet— Grievances— The  Pope  to  the  i-Jector- The  Pope's  Brief— The 
Princes  fear  the  Pope—"  The  Fiery  Trial"— "  The  bailing  Mines"— 
The  Augustine  Convent — Mirisch  and  Probst — Persecution  at  Mil- 
tenburg— The  Inquisitors  and  the  Confessors — The  Fate  ofLambert — 
Luther\  Sympatiiy— Hymn  on  the  Martyrs— The  Legate  Campeggio 
— Evasion  of  the  Ldict  of  Worms — Alarm  of  thePope — TheDukesof 
Bavaria — Conference  at  Ratisbon — Subtle  Devices — Results  of  the 
Ratisbon  League — The  Emperor's  Edict — Martyrdom  of  Gaspard 
Tauber — Cruellies  in  Wurtemburg — Persecution  in  Bavaria — Fa- 
naticism in  Holstein — The  Prior  and  the  Regent — Martyrdom  of 
Henry  Zaphten — Luther  and  Carlstudt — Opinions  on  the  Lord's 
Supper — Carlstadt  Leaves  Wiitemburg — Luther  at  Jena — Luther  and 
Carlstadt — Luther  at  Orlamund— Interview  at  Orlamund — On  the 
Worship  of  Images — Carlstadt  Banis^hed— Carlstadt  Retires  to  Stras- 
burg — Assembly^at  Spires — Abridgment  of  the  Reformed  Doctrine — 
x'VllKM-t  of  Brandenburg — The  Word  of  God  Not  Bound — All  Saints' 
Church — Abolition  of  the  Mass— Nature  of  Cbristianity-Lettcr  to 
Councillors — On  the  Use  of  Learning — Religion  and  the  Arts — 
Essence  of  Christianity — Music  and  Poetry — Abuses  of  Painting— 
Insurn-ction  of  the  Peasantry — The  Reformation  and  Revolt — Fa- 
naticism— "  The  Spirit" — Mvinzer  Preaches  Revolt — Liberty  of  Con- 
science— Luther's  View  of  the  Revolt — Luther  to  the  Peasantry — 
Murder  of  Count  Helfenstein — Warlike  Exhortation — Gotz  of  Ber- 
lichingen — "  Radical  Reform" — Defeat  of  the  Rebels — Mitnzer  at 
Mulhausen— Anxieties  at  Wittemburg — The  Landgrave  Takes  up 
Arms — Defeat  and  Death  of  Miinzer — Thirteenth  Article — Luther 
Calumniated — Rise  of  the  New  Church — The  Revolt  and  the  Refor- 
mation— The  Last  Days  of  the  Elector  Frederic — The  Elector  and  the 
Reformer — Duke  George's  Confederacy — The  Nuns  of  Nimptscb — 
Catherine  Bora — The  Deserted  Convent — Luther's  Thoughts  on 
Matrimony — Luther's  Marriage — Domestic  Happiness — The  Elector 
John — The  Landgrave  Philip — Poliander's  Hymn — New  Ordination 
'—Diet  at  Augsburg — League  of  Torgau —  The  Evangelic  Union — 
"  The  Rulers  Take  Counsel  Together" — The  Emperor's  Message — 
The  Reformation  and  the  Papacy. 


BOOK    XL— Page  235. 

Spiritual  Slavery — Christian  Liberty — Effect  of  the  Gospel  on  Zwingle 
— Leo  Judah  at  Zurich — The  Challenge — Zwingle  arid  Faber — 
Zwingle  Tempted  by  the  Pope — "  Zwingle's  Passion" — Tract  against 
Images — Wooden  Idols — The  Unterwalders — Public  Meeting — Hoff- 
man's Defence  of  the  Pope — The  Mass — Schmidt  of  Kussnacht — 
Results  of  the  Conference — Oswald  Myconius  at  Zurich — Thomas 
Plater — The  Swiss  Aroused — Hottinger  Arrested — His  Martyrdom — 
Persecution  Invoked — Swiss  and  German  Reformations — The  Jewish 
and  Pagan  Elements — Zwingle's  and  Luther's  Tasks — The  Council 
and  the  People — Abduction  ofCExlin — Riot  and  Conflagration — The 
Wirths  arrested — The  Prisoners  Surrendered — A  Spectacle  to  the 
World—"  Cruel  Mockings"— "  Faithful  unto  Death"— Father  and 
Son  on  the  Scaffold — Abolition  of  the  Mass — The  Lord's  Supper — 
Brotherly  Love — Zwingle  on  Original  Sin — Attack  upon  Zwingle — 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

The  Gospel  at  Berne — Heim  and  Haller — Ordinance  of  the  Govern- 
ment— St.  Michael's  Nunnery — The  Convent  of  Konigsfeld — Mar- 
garet Watteville's  Letter — Liberation  of  the  Nuns — Lretended  Letter 
of  Zwingle — Clara  May  and  Nicolas  Watteville — The  Seat  of  Learn- 
ing— tEcohimpadiu^ — Flight  from  the  Conveiit — CEcolampadius  at 
Basle — Jealousy  of  Erasmus — Hutten  and  Erasmus — Death  of  Hiit- 
ten — Vacillation  and  Decision — Erasmus's  GLuatrain — Luther's  Letter 
to  Erasmus — Motives  of  Erasmus  in  Opposing  the  Reformation — La- 
mentations of  Erasmus — Arguments  for  Eree  Will — Premature  Exul- 
tation— A  Test — God's  Woiking — Jansenism — The  Bible  and  Phi- 
losopny — The  Three  Days'  Battle — Character  of  False  Systems — 
Conrad  Grebel  —  Extravagances  —  "  1'he  Little  Jerusalem" — The 
Anabaptist  Feast — Borrible  Tragedy  —  Discussion  on  Baptism — 
Opinions  not  Punishable — Popish  Immobility — Zwingle  and  Luther 
— Zwingle  on  the  Lord's  Supper — Consubstantiation — Luther's  Great 
Principle — Carlstadt'sWritings  Prohibited — Zwingle's  Commentary — 
The  Suabiai.  Syngramma — Need  of  Union  in  Adversity — Struj-gles 
of  the  Reformation — Tumult  in  the  Tockenburg — Meeting  at  11a ntz 
— Comander's  Defence — Doctrine  of  the  Sacrament — Proposed  Public 
Discussion — Decision  of  the  Diet — Zwingle  in  Danirer — The  Dispu- 
tants at  Baden — Contrast  of  the  Parties — Eck  and  CEcolampadius — 
Zwingle's  Share  in  the  Contest — Murner  of  Lucerne — Halier  and 
the  Council  of  Berne — Reformation  in  St.  Gall — Conrad  Pellican— 
The  Mountaineers — Alliance  with  Austria — Farel  Appears. 


BOOK   XIL— Page  341. 
THE    FRENCH. — 1500 — 1526. 

The  Reformation  in  France — Persecution  of  the  Vaudois — Birthplace 
of  Farel — La  Saint  Croix — The  Priest's  Wizard — Farel's  Super- 
stitious Faith — The  Chevalier  Bayard — Louis  XII — The  Two 
Valois — Lefevre — His  Devotion — Farel's  lieverence  for  the  Pope — 
Farel  and  the  Bible — Gleams  of  Light — Lefevre  Turns  to  St.  Paul — 
Lefevre  on  Works — University  Amusemt  ;  ts — Faith  and  Works — 
Paradoxical  Truth — Farel  and  the  Saints — Allman  Refutes  De  Vio — 
Pierre  Olivetan — Happy  Change  in  Farel — Independence  and  Pri- 
ority— Of  the  Reformation  in  France — Francis  of  Angouleme — Two 
Classes  of  Combatants — Margaret  of  Valois — Talents  of  the  Clueen 
of  Navarre — The  Bishop  and  the  Bible — Francis  Encourages  Learn- 
ing— Margaret  Embraces  the  Gospel — Poetical  Effusions — Of  the 
Duchess  of  Alencon — Margaret's  Danger — Violence  of  Beda — Louis 
Berquin — Opposition  to  the  Gospel — The  Concordat — The  Concordat 
Resisted — Fanaticism  and  Timidity — The  Three  Maries — Beda  and 
the  University — The  King  and  the  Sorbonne — Briconnet  in  His 
Diocese — The  Bishop  and  the  Curates — Martial  Mazurier — Margaret's 
Sorrows — Strength  tinder  Trial — Death  of  Philibert  of  Nemours — 
Alone,  Not  Lonely — The  Wandering  Sheep — Briconnet's  Hope  and 
Prayer — Sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures — Lefevre's  French  Bible — The 
People  "  Turned  Aside" — Church  of  Landouzy — The  Gospel  and  the 
French  Court  —  Margaret's  Lamentations  —  Briconnet  Preaches 
Against  the  Monks — Two  Despotisms — Briconnet  Draws  Back — 
Leclerc  the  Wool-Comber — Leclerc's  Zeal  and  Sufferings — A  Moth- 
er's Faith  and  Love — Secret  Meetings  for  Worship — Berquin  Im- 
prisoned by  the  Parliament — Charges    Against  Berquin — Liberated 


Ill  CONTENTS. 

by  the  King — Pavanne's  Recantation  and  Remorse — Zeal  of  Leclerc 
and  Chatelain — Peter  Toussaint — Leclerc  Breaks  the  Images — Up- 
roar among  the  People — Martyrdom  of  Leclerc  and  Chatelain — The 
Gospel  Expelled  from  Gap — Anemond's  Zeal — Farel  Preaches  to  His 
Countrymen — Pierre  De  Sebville — Anemond  Visits  Luther — Luther's 
Letter  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy — Farel's  Arrival  in  Switzerland — CEco- 
lampadius  and  Farel — Cowardice  of  Erasmus — French  Frankness — ■ 
"  Balaam" — Farel's  Propositions — Faith  and  Scripture — The  Refor- 
mation Defended — Visits  Strasburg — Ordination  of  Farel — Apostolical 
Succession — Farel  at  Montbeliard — The  Gospel  at  Lyons — Anthony 
Papillon — Sebville  Persecuted — Secret  Meetings  at  Grenoble — Effects 
of  the  Battle  of  Pavia — Trial  and  Arrest  of  Maigret — Evangelical 
Association — Need  of  Unity — Christian  Patriotism — Influence  of 
Tracts — The  New  Testament  in  French — Bible  and  Tract  Societies 
— Farel  at  Montbeliard — Oil  and  Wine — Toussaint's  Trials — Farel 
and  Anemond — The  Image  of  Saint  Anthony — Death  of  Anemond — 
Defeat  and  Captivity  of  Francis  I — Consternation  of  the  French — 
Opposers  of  the  Faith — The  Glueen-Mother  and  the  Sorbonne — Cry 
for  "  Heretical"  Blooil — Parhamont  Establishes  the  Inquisition — 
Charges  Against  Briconnet — Cited  Before  the  Inquisition — Dismay 
of  the  Bishop — Refused  a  Trial  by  His  Peers — Briconnet's  Tempta- 
tion and  Fall — Retractation  of  Briconnet — Compared  with  Lefevre — 
Beda  Attacks  Lefevre — Lefevre  at  Strasburg — Meets  Farel — Berquin 
Imprisoned — Erasmus  Attacked  by  the  Monks  and  the  Sorbonne—- 
Appeals  to  the  Parliament  and  the  King — More  Victims  in  Lorraine 
— Bonaventure  Rennel — Courage  of  Pastor  Schuch^Martyrdom  of 
Schuch — Peter  Caroli  and  Beda — The  Martyrdom  of  James  Pavanne 
— The  Hermit  of  Livry — Seized  and  Condemned — Resources  of 
Providence — John  Calvin — The  Family  of  Mommor — Calvin's  Pa- 
rentage— Calvin's  Childhood — His  Devotion  to  Study — Infant  Eccle- 
siastics— Calvin  Proceeds  to  Paris — Reformation  of  Language — Pro- 
testant France — System  of  Terror — The  "  Babylonish  Captivity" — 
Toussaint  Goes  to  Paris — Toussaint  in  Prison — "  Not  accepting  De- 
liverance"— Spread  of  Persecution — Project  of  Margaret —  For  the 
Deliverance  of  Francis — Margaret's  Resolution — She  Sails  for  Spain, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK   IX. 

It  was  now  four  years  since  the  Church  had  heard  again 
proclaimed  a  Truth  which  had  formed  part  of  her  earliest 
teaching.  The  mighty  word  of  a  Salvation  by  Grace, — once 
'fully  preached'  throughout  Asia,  Greece,  and  Italy  by  Paul 
and  his  companions,  and  discovered  many  ages  after,  in  the 
pages  of  the  Bible,  by  a  monk  of  Wittemberg, — had  resound- 
ed from  the  plains  of  Saxony,  as  far  as  Italy,  France,  and 
England;  and  the  lofty  mountains  of  Switzerland  had  echoed 
its  inspiring  accents.  The  springs  of  truth,  liberty,  and  life 
were  again  opened:  multitudes  had  drunk  gladly  of  the 
waters;  but  those  who  had  freely  partaken  of  them  had 
retained  the  same  external  appearance,  and  while  all  within 
was  new,  every  thing  loithout  remained  unchanged. 

The  constitution  of  the  Church,  its  ritual,  and  its  discipline 
had  undergone  no  alteration.  In  Saxony — even  at  Wittem- 
berg— and  wherever  the  new  opinions  had  spread,  the  papal 
ceremonies  held  on  their  accustomed  course ;  the  priest  before 
the  altar  offering  the  host  to  God  was  believed  to  effect  a 
mysterious  transubstantiation;  friars  and  nuns  continued  to 
present  themselves  at  the  convents  to  take  upon  them  the 
monastic  vows ;  pastors  lived  single ;  religious  brotherhoods 
herded  together ;  pilgrimages  were  undertaken ;  the  faithful 


10  ASPECT     OF    THE    CHURCH. 

suspended  their  votive  offerings  on  the  pillars  of  the  chapels; 
and  all  the  accustomed  ceremonies,  down  to  the  minutest 
observances,  were  celebrated  as  before.  A  voice  had  been 
heard  in  the  world,  but  as  yet  it  was  not  embodied  forth  in 
action.  The  language  of  the  priest  accordingly  presented  the 
most  striking  contrast  with  his  ministrations.  From  his 
pulpit  he  might  be  heard  to  thunder  against  the  mass  as 
idolatrous,  and  then  he  might  be  seen  to  come  down  to  the 
altar,  and  go  scrupulously  through  the  prescribed  form  of  the 
service.  On  every  side,  the  recently  recovered  Gospel  sound- 
ed in  the  midst  of  the  ancient  riies.  The  officiating  priest 
himself  was  unconscious  of  his  inconsistency,  and  the  popu- 
lace, who  listened  with  avidity  to  the  bold  discourses  of  the 
new  preachers,  continued  devoutly  observant  of  their  long- 
established  customs,  as  though  they  were  never  to  abandon 
them.  All  things  continued  unchanged  at  the  domestic 
hearth,  and  in  the  social  circle,  as  in  the  house  of  God.  A 
new  faith  was  abroad,  but  new  works  were  not  yet  seen.  The 
vernal  sun  had  risen,  but  winter  still  bound  the  earth ;  neither 
flower,  nor  leaf,  nor  any  sign  of  vegetation  was  visible.  But 
this  aspect  of  things  was  deceptive;  a  vigorous  sap  was 
secretly  circulating  beneath  the  surface,  and  was  about  to 
change  the  face  of  the  world. 

To  this  .wisely-ordered  progress,  the  Reformation  may  be 
indebted  for  its  triumphs.  Every  revolution  should  be  wrought 
out  in  men's  minds  before  it  takes  the  shape  of  action.  The 
contrast  we  have  remarked  did  not  at  first  fix  Luther's  atten- 
tion. He  seemed  to  expect  that  while  men  received  his  writ- 
ings with  enthusiasm,  they  should  continue  devout  observers 
of  the  corruptions  those  writings  exposed.  One  might  be 
tempted  to  believe  that  he  had  planned  his  course  beforehand, 
and  was  resolved  to  change  the  opinions  of  men  before  he 
ventured  to  remodel  their  forms  of  worship.  But  this  would 
be  ascribing  to  Luther  a  wisdom,  the  honour  of  which  is  due 
to  a  higher  Intelligence.  He  was  the  appointed  instrument 
for  a  purpose  he  had  no  power  to  conceive.  At  a  later  period 
he  could  discern  and  comprehend  these  things,  but  he  did  not 


EFFECTS    OF    LUTHEr's     TEACHING.  H 

devise  or  arrange  them.  God  led  the  way:  the  part  assigned 
to  Luther  was  to  follow. 

If  Luther  had  begun  by  external  reformation — if  he  had 
followed  up  his  words  by  an  attempt  to  abolish  monastic  vows, 
the  mass,  confession,  the  prescribed  form  of  worship, — assur- 
edly he  would  have  encountered  the  most  formidable  resist- 
ance. Mankind  need  time  to  accommodate  themselves  to 
great  changes.  But  Luther  was  not  the  imprudent  and 
daring  innovator  that  some  historians*  have  depicted.  The 
people,  seeing  no  change  in  their  daily  devotions,  followed 
undoubtingly  their  new  leader — wondering  at  the  assaults 
directed  against  a  man  who  left  unquestioned  their  mass,  their 
beads,  and  their  confessor ;  and  disposed  to  ascribe  such 
enmity  to  the  petty  jealousy  of  secret  rivals,  or  to  the  hard 
injustice  of  powerful  enemies.  And  yet  the  opinions  that 
Luther  put  forth,  fermented  in  the  minds  of  men,  moulded 
their  thoughts,  and  so  undermined  the  strong  hold  of  prejudice 
that  it,  ere  long,  fell  without  being  attacked.  Such  influence 
is,  indeed,  gradual.  Opinions  make  their  silent  progress, 
like  the  waters  which  trickle  behind  our  rocks,  and  loosen 
them  from  the  mountains  on  which  they  rest:  suddenly  the 
hidden  operation  is  revealed,  and  a  single  day  suffices  to  lay 
bare  the  work  of  years,  if  not  of  centuries. 

A  new  era  had  dawned  upon  the  Reformation :  already 
truth  was  recovered  in  its  teaching ;  henceforward  the  teach- 
ing of  the  truth  is  to  work  truth  in  the  Church  and  in  society. 
The  agitation  was  too  great  to  allow  of  men's  minds  remain- 
ing at  their  then  point  of  attainment ;  on  the  general  faith  in 
the  dogmas  so  extensively  undermined,  customs  had  been 
established  which  now  began  to  be  disregarded,  and  were 
destined,  with  them,  to  pass  away. 

There  was  a  courage  and  vitality  in  that  age,  which  pre- 
vented its  continuing  silent  in  presence  of  proved  error.  The 
sacraments,  public  worship,  the  hierarchy,  vows,  constitutional 
forms,  domestic  and  public  life,  all  were  on  the  eve  of  under- 
going modification.  The  bark,  slowly  and  laboriously  con- 
*  Hume,  &c. 


12  WISDOM    OF    GOD. 

structed,  was  on  the  point  of  being  lowered  from  the  stocks, 
and  launched  on  the  open  sea.  It  is  for  us  to  follow  its  pro- 
gress through  many  shoals. 

The  captivity  of  Luther  in  the  castle  of  Wartburg,  separates 
these  two  periods.  That  Divine  Providence  which  was 
about  to  give  a  mighty  impulse  to  the  Reformation,  had  pre- 
pared the  means  of  its  progress,  by  leading  apart  into  j*rofound 
seclusion,  the  man  chosen  to  effect  it.  For  a  while,  the  work 
was  as  much  lost  sight  of  as  the  instrument  of  it :  but  the 
seed  must  be  committed  to  the  earth,  if  it  is  to  bring  forth 
fruit;  and  from  this  captivity,  which  might  have  seemed  to 
close  the  Reformer's  career,  the  Reformation  was  destined  to 
go  forth  to  new  conquests,  and  spread  rapidly  through  the 
world. 

Until  this  period,  the  Reformation  had  indeed  centered 
in  the  person  of  Luther.  His  appearance  before  the  Diet 
of  Worms  was  unquestionably  the  sublimest  hour  of  his  life. 
His  character  at  that  time  seemed  almost  without  a  blemish ; 
and  this  it  is  that  has  led  some  to  the  remark,  that  if  G(^d, 
who  hid  the  Reformer  for  ten  months  within  the  walls  of  the 
Wartburg,  had  at  that  moment  for  ever  removed  him  from  the 
eyes  of  men,  his  end  would  have  resembled  an  apotheosis. 
But  God-  designs  no  apotheosis  for  His  servants, — and  Luther 
was  preserved  to  the  Church,  that  in  him,  and  by  his  errors, 
the  Church  might  learn  that  the  faith  of  Christians  should 
rest  only  on  the  word  of  God.  He  was  hurried  away  and 
placed  at  a  distance  from  the  stage  on  which  the  great  revolu- 
tion of  the  sixteenth  century  was  going  on.  The  truth  which 
he  had  for  four  years  so  energetically  proclaimed,  continued 
to  produce  its  effect  upon  Christendom ;  and  the  work  of 
which  he  had  been  the  weak  instrument,  bore  thenceforward 
the  impress,  not  of  man — but  of  God  himself 

All  Germany  was  moved  by  the  news  of  Luther's  captivitjr. 
Rumours,  the  most  contradictory,  were  circulated  in  the  pro- 
vinces. Men's  minds  were  more  agitated  by  the  absence  of 
the  Reformer,  than  they  could  possibly  have  been  by  his  pre- 


AGITATION    OF    THE    PEOPLE.  13 

sence.  On  one  side,  it  was  affirmed  that  some  of  his  friends, 
passing  from  the  French  territory,  had  carried  him  off,  and 
lodged  him  in  safety  beyond  the  Rhine.*  In  another  place, 
it  was  said  that  assassins  had  taken  his  life.  Even  in  the 
smallest  villages,  inquiries  were  heard  concerning  Luther. 
Travellers  were  questioned,  and  groups  of  the  curious  assem- 
bled in  the  market-places.  Sometimes  a  stranger,  passing 
through,  recounted  how  the  Reformer  had  been  carried  off; 
depicting  the  brutal  horsemen  hastily  tieing  their  prisoner's 
hands  behind  him,  dragging  him  after  them  on  foot,  till  his 
strength  was  spent,  and  deaf  to  his  cries,  though  the  blood 
forced  its  way  from  his  fingers,  f  His  body,  said  some,  has 
been  seen  pierced  through  and  through. J  Such  narratives 
drew  forth  exclamations  of  grief  and  horror.  '  Never  more 
shall  we  behold  him  1'  said  the  gathered  crowds ;  '  never  again 
shall  we  hear  that  bold  man  whose  voice  stirred  the  depths  of 
our  hearts !'  Luther's  partisans,  moved  with  indignation, 
swore  to  avenge  his  death.  Women  and  children,  men  of 
peace,  and  aged  people,  foreboded  new  disturbances.  The 
alarm  of  the  Romish  party  was  ahogether  unexampled.  The 
priests  and  friars  who  had  been  at  first  unable  to  conceal  their 
joy,  believing  their  own  triumph  secured  by  the  death  of  one 
man,  and  had  carried  themselves  haughtily,  would  now  wil- 
lingly have  hid  themselves  from  the  threatening  anger  of  the 
populace.^  Those  who  had  given  free  vent  to  their  rage,  so 
long  as  Luther  was  at  large,  now  trembled  with  alarm,  though 
Luther  was  in  captivity.  ||  Aleander,  especially,  was  as  if 
thunderstruck.  "  The  only  way  of  extricating  ourselves," 
wrote  a  Roman  Catholic  to  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  "  is  to 

*  Hie  ....  invalescit  opinio,  me  esse  ab  amicis  captum  e  Francia 
missis.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  5.) 

t  Et  iter  festinantes  cursu  equites  ipsum  pedestrem  raptim  tractum 
fuisse  ut  sanguis  e  digitis  erumperet.     (Cochlaeus,  p.  39.) 

t  Fuit  qui  testatus  sit,  visum  a  se  Lutheri  cadaver  transfossum.  ,  .  , 
(Pallavicini  Hist.  Cone.  Trid.  i.  p.  122.) 

§  Molem  vulgi  imminentis  ferre  non  possunt.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  13.) 

II  Clui  me  libero  insanierunt,   nunc   me  captive  ita  formidant  ut  in- 
cipiant  mitigare.     (Ibid.) 

VOL.   IIL  2 


14  LUTHER    AND    MELANCTHON. 

light  our  torches,  and  go  searching-  through  the  earth  for  Lu- 
ther, till  we  can  restore  him  to  the  nation  ihntivill  have  him."* 
It  might  have  been  thought  that  the  pallid  ghost  of  the  Re- 
former, dragging  his  chain,  was  spreading  terror  around,  and 
calling  for  vengeance.  Luther's  death,  it  was  predicted,  would 
occasion  the  effusion  of  torrents  of  human  blood. f 

Nowhere  was  there  a  stronger  feeling  displayed  than  in 
Worms  itself  Bold  remonstrances  were  heard  both  from 
nobles  and  people.  Ulric  Hutten  and  Hermann  Busch  filled 
the  air  with  their  plaintive  lamentations  and  calls  to  war. 
Loud  accusations  were  brought  against  Charles  V.  and  the 
Nuncios.  The  entire  nation  had  espoused  the  cause  of  the 
monk  whose  energy  of  faith  had  made  him  its  leader. 

At  Wittemberg,  his  colleagues  and  friends,  and  especially 
Melancthon,  were  at  first  lost  in  sadness.  Luther  had  been 
the  means  of  communicating  to  the  young  student  the  trea- 
sures of  that  divine  knowledge  which  from  that  hour  had 
taken  possession  of  his  whole  soul.  It  was  Luther  M'ho  had 
given  substance  and  life  to  that  intellectual  culture  which 
Melancthon  brought  with  him  to  Wittemberg.  The  depth 
of  the  Reformer's  doctrine  had  impressed  the  young  Grecian, 
and  his  bold  advocacy  of  the  claims  of  the  unchanging  Word 
against  human  traditions  had  called  orth  his  enthusiasm.  He 
had  associated  himself  with  him  in  his  labours,  and  taking 
up  the  pen,  with  that  finished  style  which  he  had  imbibed  in 
the  study  of  ancient  literature,  he  had  made  the  authority  of 
Fathers  and  of  Councils  to  bend  before  the  sovereignty  of 
God's  Word. 

The  prompt  decision  that  Luther  displayed  in  the  trying 
occasions  of  life,  Melancthon  manifested  in  his  pursuit  of  learn- 
ing. Never  were  two  men  more  strongly  marked  with  diver- 
sity and  agreement.  "Scripture,"  said  Melancthon,  "satisfies 
the  soul  with  holy  and  wondrous  delight — it  is  a  heaven!}' 

♦  Nos  vitam  vix  redempturos,  nisi  accensis  candelis  undique  cum  re- 
quiramus.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  13.) 

t  Gerbelii  Ep.  in  M.  S,  C.  Heckelianis.  Lindner,  Lcb.  Luth, 
p.  244. 


15 

ambrosia!"*  "The  word  of  God,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "is 
a  sword — an  instrument  of  war  and  destruction, — it  falls  on 
the  children  of  Ephraim  like  the  lioness  that  darts  from  the 
forest."  Thus  one  saw  in  Scripture  chiefly  its  power  to  com- 
fort ; — and  the  other,  a  mighty  energy  opposed  to  the  corrup- 
tion of  the  world,  But  to  both  it  was  the  sublimest  of  themes. 
In  so  far,  there  was  a  perfect  agreement  in  their  judgment 
"  Melancthon,"  observed  Luther,  "  is  a  miracle  in  the  estima- 
tion of  all  who  know  him.  He  is  the  most  dreaded  enemy 
of  Satan  and  the  schoolmen,  for  he  knows  all  their  '  foolish- 
ness, and  he  knows  Christ  as  the  rock.  That  young  Grecian 
goes  beyond  me  even  in  divine  learning, — he  will  do  you 
more  good  than  many  Luthers  !"  And  he  went  on  to  say  he 
was  ready  to  give  up  an  opinion  if  Philip  disapproved  it. 
Melancthon,  on  his  part,  full  of  admiration  for  Luther's  know- 
ledge of  Scripture,  ranked  him  far  above  the  Fathers.  He 
took  pleasure  in  excusing  the  jesting  which  Luther  was  re- 
proached for  resorting  to,  and  would,  on  such  occasions,  com- 
pare him  to  an  earthen  vase  which  holds  a  precious  treasure 
in  an  unsightly  vessel.  "  I  would  be  careful  how  I  blame 
him,"  said  he.f 

But  behold  the  two  friends  so  intimately  united  in  affection, 
now  parted  one  from  the  other.  The  two  fellow-soldiers  no 
longer  march  side  by  side  to  the  rescue  of  the  Church  Lu- 
ther is  absent, — and  lost  perhaps  for  ever !  The  consterna- 
tion at  Wittemberg  was  extreme  : — as  that  of  an  army,  gloomy 
and  d<^jected,  at  sight  of  the  bleeding  corpse  of  the  general 
who  was  leading  it  on  to  victory. 

Suddenly  news  arrived  of  a  more  cheering  character. 
•'  Our  well-beloved  father  still  lives,"J  exclaimed  Philip,  ex- 
uhingly,  "  take  courage  and  stand  firm."  But  ere  long 
melancholy  prognostications  returned.     Luther  was  indeed 

*  Mirabilis  in  iis  voluptas,  immo  ambrosia  qusedam  coelestis,  (Corp. 
Ref.  i.  1 28.) 

t  Spiritum  Martini  nolim  temere  in  iiac  causa  interpellare.  (Ibid, 
p.  211.) 

^  Pater  noster  cliarissimus  vivit.     (Ibid.  p.  389.) 


16  THE    IMPERIAL    EDICT    POWERLESS. 

living,  but  in  close  imprisonment.  The  edict  of  Worms,  with 
its  menacing  proscriptions,*  was  circulated  by  thousands 
throughout  the  empire,  and  even  in  the  Tyrolese  mountains.! 
Was  not  the  Reformation  on  the  very  eve  of  destruction  by 
the  iron  hand  impending  over  it?  The  gentle  spirit  of  Me- 
lancthon  recoiled  with  a  thrill  of  horror. 

But  above  the  hand  of  man's  power,  a  mightier  hand  was 
making  itself  felt,  and  God  was  rendering  powerless  that 
dreaded  edict.  The  German  princes,  who  had  long  sought 
occasion  to  reduce  the  authority  which  Rome  exercised  in  the 
empire,  took  alarm  at  the  alliance  between  the  Emperor  and 
the  Pope,  lest  it  should  work  the  ruin  of  their  liberty. 
Whilst,  therefore,  Charles,  in  journeying  in  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, might  see  with  a  smile  of  irony  the  bonfires  in  which 
flatterers  and  fanatics  consumed  the  writings  of  Luther  in  the 
public  squares, — those  writings  were  read  in  Germany  with 
continually  increasing  eagerness,  and  numerous  pamphlets  in 
favour  of  the  Reformation  every  day  attacked  the  papal 
authority. 

The  Nuncios  could  not  control  themselves  Avhen  they  found 
that  the  edict,  which  it  had  cost  them  so  much  to  obtain,  pro- 
duced so  feeble  an  effect.  "  The  ink  of  the  signature,"  said 
they,  "  has  scarcely  had  time  to  dry,  when,  behold,  on  all 
sides,  the  imperial  decree  is  torn  to  pieces."  The  populace 
were  more  and  more  won  to  the  cause  of  the  extraordinary 
man  who,  without  heeding  the  thunderbolts  of  Charles  and 
of  the  Pope,  had  made  confession  of  his  faith  with  the  courage 
of  a  martyr.  It  was  said,  "  Has  he  not  offered  to  retract  if 
refuted,  and  no  one  has  had  the  hardihood  to  undertake  to  re- 
fute him.  Does  not  that  show  that  he  has  spoken  the  truth  ?" 
Thus  it  was  that  the  first  emotions  of  fear  were  followed  at 
Wittemberg  and  throughout  the  empire  by  a  movement  of 
enthusiasm.  Even  the  archbishop  of  Mentz,  beholding  the 
burst  of  national  sympathy,  durst  not  give  permission  to  the 

*  Dicitur  parari  proscriptio  horrenda.     (Corp.  Ref  i.  p.  389.) 
t  Dicuntur  signatae  charts  proscriptionis  bis  mille  missje  (jiioqiie  ad 
Insbruck.     (Ibid.) 


THE     "knight    GEORGE."  17 

cordeliers  to  preach  against  the  Reformer.  The  University, 
which  nnight  have  been  expected  to  yield  to  the  storm,  raised 
its  head.  The  new  doctrines  had  taken  too  deep  root  to  suffer 
by  Luther's  absence,  and  the  halls  of  the  academies  were 
crowded  with  auditors.* 

Meanwhile,  the  Knight  George,  for  this  was  the  name  of 
Luther,  so  long  as  he  was  in  the  Wartburg,  was  living  soli- 
tary and  unknown.  "  If  you  w^ere  to  see  me,"  wrote  he  to 
Melancthon,  "  truly  you  would  take  me  for  a  knight ;  even 
you  \A'ould  scarcely  know  me  again."!  Luther,  on  his  arri- 
val, passed  a  short  time  in  repose,  enjoying  a  leisure  which 
had  not  yet  been  allowed  him.  He  was  at  large  within  the 
fortres.'i;  but  he  was  not  permitted  to  pass  outside  \i.\  All 
his  wishes  were  complied  with,  and  he  had  never  been  better 
treated.^  Many  were  the  thoughts  that  occupied  his  mind, 
but  none  of  them  had  power  to  disturb  him.  By  turns  he 
looked  down  upon  the  forests  that  surrounded  him,  and  raised 
his  eyes  to  heaven — "  Strange  captivity  !"  he  exclaimed,— 
"  a  prisoner  by  consent,  and  yet  against  my  will."  Ij  "  Pray 
for  me,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin  : — "  I  want  nothing  save  your 
prayers :  don't  disturb  me  by  what  is  said  or  thought  of  me 
in  the  world.  At  last  I  am  quiet."T[  This  letter,  like  many 
of  that  period  is  dated  from  the  island  q>{  Patmos.  Luther 
compared  the  Wartburg  to  the  island  celebrated  as  the  scene 
of  the  banishment  of  St.  John  by  the  emperor  Domitian, 

*  Scholastic!  quorum  supra  millia  ibi  tunc  fuerunt.  (Spalatini  An^ 
nales,  1521,  October.) 

t  Equitem  videres  ac  ipse  vix  agnosceres.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  11.) 

X  Nunc  sum  hie  otiosus,  sicut  inter  captivos  Uber.  (Ibid.  p.  3,  12 
May.) 

§  Cluanquam  et  hilariter  et  libenter  omnia  mihi  ministret.  (Ibid,  p.  l3, 
15  August.) 

II  Ego  mirabilis  captivus  qui  et  volens  et  nolens  hie  sedeo.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  4,  12  May.) 

5r  Tu  fac  ut  pro  me  ores :  hac  una  re  opus  mihi  est.  Cluicquid  de  me 
fit  in  publico,  nihil  moeror ;  ego  in  quiete  tandem  sedeo.  (L,  Epp.  ii» 
p.  4,  10  June  1521.) 

2* 


18  A    SAFE    SOLITUDE, 

After  the  stirring  contests  that  had  agitated  his  soul,  the 
Reformer  enjoyed  repose  in  the  heart  of  the  gloomy  forests 
of  Thuringen.  There  he  studied  evangelic  truth, — not  for 
disputation,  but  as  the  means  of  regeneration  and  of  life.  The 
Reformation,  in  its  beginning,  was  of  necessity  polemic ; — 
other  circumstances  required  new  labours.  After  eradicat- 
ing with  the  hoe  the  thorns  and  brambles,  the  time  vvas  ar- 
rived for  peaceably  sowing  the  word  of  God  in  men's  hearts. 
If  Luther  had  been  all  his  life  called  to  wage  conflicts, — he 
would  not  have  effected  a  lasting  work  in  the  Church.  By 
his  captivity  he  escaped  a  danger  which  might  have  ruined 
the  cause  of  the  Reformation, — that  of  always  attacking  and 
demolishing,  without  ever  defending  or  building  up. 

This  secluded  retreat  had  one  effect,  perhaps  still  more 
beneficial.  Lifted  by  his  nation,  like  one  raised  upon  a 
shield,  he  was  but  a  hand's  breadth  from  the  abyss  beyond, 
and  the  least  degree  of  intoxication  might  have  precipitated 
him  headlong.  Some  of  the  foremost  promoters  of  the  Refor- 
mation in  Germany,  as  well  as  in  Switzerland,  had  made 
shipwreck  on  the  shoals  of  spiritual  pride  and  fanaticism. 
Luther  was  a  man  very  subject  to  the  weaknesses  of  our 
nature;  and,  as  it  was,  he  did  not  entirely  escape  these  beset- 
ting dangers.  Meanwhile,  the  hand  of  the  Almighty,  for  a 
while,  preserved  him  from  them,  by  suddenly  removing  him 
from  the  intoxication  of  success,  and  plunging  him  in  the 
depth  of  a  retirement  unknown  to  the  world  !  There  his  soul 
gathered  up  itself  to  God, — there  it  was  again  tempered  by 
adversity ; — his  sufferings,  his  humiliation,  obliged  him  to 
walk,  at  least  for  a  time,  with  the  humble; — and  the  princi- 
ples of  the  christian  life  thenceforward  developed  themselves 
in  his  soul  with  fresh  energy  and  freedom. 

Luther's  tranquillity  was  not  of  long  duration.  Seated  in 
solitude  on  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  he  passed  whole  days 
lost  in  meditation.  At  times,  the  Church  rose  before  his 
vision,  and  .spread  out  all  her  wretchedness  ;.*  at  other  times, 

*  Ego  hie  sedens  tota  die  faciem  Ecclesiae  ante  me  constituo.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.  1.) 


LETTER    TO    MELANCTHON.  19 

lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven,  he  would  say,  "Canst  Thou  have 
made  all  men  in  vain?"  Then  letting  go  his  confidence,  he 
would  add,  dejectedly,  "  Alas  !  there  is  no  one  in  this  closing 
day  of  wrath  to  stand  as  a  wall  before  the  Lord,  and  save 
Israel!" 

Then  recurring  to  his  own  lot,  he  dreaded  being  charged 
with  having  deserted  the  field  of  battle;*  the  thought  was 
insupportable.  "  Rather,"  exclaimed  he,  "  would  I  be  stretch- 
ed on  burning  coals  than  stagnate  here  half  dead."t  Trans- 
ported in  thought  to  Worms — to  Witttmberg — into  the  midst 
of  his  adversaries — he  regretted  that,  yieldmg  to  his  friends' 
entreaties,  he  had  withdrawn  himself  from  the  world.  J  "  Ah," 
said  he,  "nothing  on  earth  do  I  more  desire  than  to  face  my 
cruel  enemies."^ 

Some  gentler  thoughts,  however,  brought  a  truce  to  such 
complainings.  Luther's  state  of  mind  was  not  all  tempest; 
his  agitated  spirit  recovered  at  times  a  degree  of  calm  and 
comfort.  Next  to  the  assurance  of  the  Divine  protection,  one 
thing  consoled  him  in  his  grief — it  was  the  recollection  of 
MeJancthon.  "  If  I  perish,"  he  wrote,  "  the  Gospel  will 
loose  nothingll — you  will  succeed  me  as  Elisha  succeeded 
Elijah,  with  a  double  portion  of  my  spirit."  But  calling  to 
mind  the  timidity  of  Melancthon,  he  ejaculated — "  Minister  of 
the  Word !  keep  the  walls  and  towers  of  Jerusalem  till  our 
enemies  shall  strike  you  down.  We  stand  alone  on  the  plain 
of  battle;  after  me  they  will  strike  you  down."!" 

This  thought  of  the  final  onset  of  Rome  on  the  infant 
Church,  threw  him  into  renewed  anxieties.  The  poor  monk, 
— a  prisoner  and  alone, — had  many  a  struggle  to  pass  through 
in  his  solitude;  but  suddenly  he  seemed  to  get  a  glimpse  of 

*  Verebar  ego  ne  aciem  deserere  viderer.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  1.) 

t  Mallem  inter  carbones  vivos  ardere,  quam  solus  semivivus,  atque 

utinam  non  mortuus  putere.     (Ibid.  10.) 

X  Cervicem  esse  objectandam  publico  furori.     (Ibid.  89.) 

§  Nihil  magis  opto,  quam  furoribus  adversariorum  occurrere,  objecto 

jugulo.     (Ibid.  1.) 

II  Etiam  si  peream,  nihil  peribit  Evangelic.     (Ibid.  p.  10.) 

IT  Nos  soli  adhuc  stamus  in  acie :   te  quaerent  post  me.     (Ibid.  p.  2.) 


20  Luther's  sickness. 

his  deliverance.  He  thought  he  could  foresee  that  the  assaults 
of  the  papal  power  would  rouse  the  nations  of  Germany ;  and 
that  the  soldiers  of  the  Gospel,  victorious  over  its  enemies,  and 
gathered  under  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  would  give  liberty 
to  its  captive.  "  If  the  Pope,"  said  he,  "  should  stretch  forth 
his  hand  against  all  Avho  are  on  my  side,  there  will  be  a  vio- 
lent commotion ;  the  more  he  urges  on  our  ruin,  the  sooner 
shall  we  see  an  end  of  him  and  his  adherents !  And  as  for 
me  ....  I  shall  be  restored  to  your  arms.*  God  is  awak- 
ening many,  and  He  it  is  who  impels  the  nations.  Only 
let  our  enemies  take  up  our  affair  and  try  to  stifle  it  in  their 
arms, — and  it  will  grow  by  their  pressure,  and  come  forth 
more  formidable  than  ever  !" 

But  sickness  brought  him  down  from  these  lofty  heights  to 
which  his  courage  and  faith  would  at  times  rise.  He  had 
already,  when  at  Worms,  suffered  much ;  and  his  disorder 
had  increased  in  solitude.f  The  food  of  the  Wartburg  was 
altogether  unsuited  to  him;  it  was  rather  less  ordinary  in 
quality  than  that  of  his  convent,  and  it  was  found  needful  to 
give  him  the  poor  diet  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed. 
He  passed  whole  nights  w^ithout  sleep; — anxieties  of  mind 
were  added  to  pain  of  body.  No  great  work  is  accomplished 
without  struggle  and  suffering.  Luther,  alone  on  his  rock, 
endured  in  his  vigorous  frame  a  suffering  that  was  needed,  in 
order  to  the  emancipation  of  mankind.  '•  Sitting,  at  night,  in 
my  apartment,"  says  he,  "  I  uttered  cries  like  a  woman  in 
travail. "J  Then,  ceasing  to  complain,  and  touched  with  the 
thought  that  what  he  was  undergoing  was  sent  in  mercy  from 
God,  he  broke  forth  in  accents  of  love :  "  Thanks  to  Thee,  O 
Christ,  that  thou  wilt  not  leave  me  without  the  precious  relics 
of  thy  holy  cross  !"§  But  soon,  feeling  indignation  against  him- 

*  Cluo  citus  id  tentaverit,  hoc  citius  et  ipse  et  sui  peribunt,  et  ego 
revertar.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  10.) 

t  Auctum  est  malum,  quo  Wormatiae  laborabara.     (Ibid.  p.  17.) 

X  Sedeo  dolcns,  sicut  puerpera,  lacer  et  saucius  et  cruentus.  (Ibid. 
p.  50,  9  Sept.) 

§  Gratias  Christo,  qui  me  sijie  rcliquiis  sanctaB  Crucis  non  dere» 
linquit.     (Ibid.) 


ALARM    OF    HIS    FRIENDS.  21 

self  wrought  in  his  soul,  he  exclaimed,  "  Hardened  fool  that 
I  am  ;  woe  is  me  !  my  prayers  are  few  ;  I  wrest'e  but  little 
with  the  Lord  ;  I  bewail  not  the  state  of  the  Church  of  God  ;* 
instead  of  being  fervent  in  spirit,  my  passions  take  fire :  I 
sink  in  sloth,  in  sleep,  and  indolence."  Then,  not  knowing 
to  what  to  ascribe  his  feelings,  and  accustomed  to  expect 
blessing  through  the  affectionate  remembrance  of  his  friends, 
he  exclaimed,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  "  O,  my  friends,  do 
you  then  forget  to  pray  for  me  ?  that  God  can  thus  leave  me 
to  myself" 

Those  who  were  about  him,  as  also  his  Wittemberg  friends, 
and  those  at  the  Elector's  court,  were  anxious  and  alarmed  at 
his  mental  suffering.  They  trembled  in  the  prospect  of  the 
life  that  had  been  snatched  from  the  fires  of  t;ie  Pope,  and  the 
sword  of  Charles,  so  sadly  sinking  and  expiring.  The 
Wartburg  then  would  be  Luther's  tomb !  "  I  fear,"  said 
Melancthon,  "  lest  his  grief  for  the  condition  of  the  Church 
should  bring  him  down  to  the  grave.  He  has  lighted  a 
candle  in  Israel ;  if  he  dies,  what  hope  is  left  us  ?  Would 
that  by  the  sacrifice  of  my  worthless  life,  I  could  retain  in 
this  world  one  who  is  surely  its  brightest  ornament.f  O, 
what  a  man  !"  he  exclaimed,  (as  if  already  standing  beside 
his  grave,)  "  surely  we  never  valued  him  as  we  ought." 

What  Luther  termed  the  shameful  indolence  of  his  prison- 
life,  was  in  reality,  diligence  beyond  the  strength  of  ordinary 
mortals.  "  Here  am  I,"  said  he,  on  the  1 4th  of  May,  '•  lapped 
in  indolence  and  pleasures.  [He  doubtless  refers  to  the  quali- 
ty of  his  food,  which  was  at  first  less  coarse  than  what  he  had 
been  used  to.]  I  am  going  through  the  Bible  in  Hebrew  and 
Greek.  I  mean  to  write  a  discourse  in  German  touching 
auricular  confession  ;  also  to  continue  the  translation  of  the 
Psalms,  and  to  compose  a  collection  of  sermons,  as  soon  as  I 
have  received  what  I  want  from  Wittemberg.  My  pfn  is 
never  idle."J     Even  this  was  but  a  part  of  Luther's  labours. 

*  Nihil  gemens  pro  ecclesia  Dei.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  22,  13  July.) 
t  Utinam  hac  vili  anima  mea  ipsius  vitam  emerc  queam.     (Corp.  Ref! 
i.  415,  6  July.)  *  t  Sine  intermissione  scribo.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  G  and  16.) 


22  THE    CONFESSIONAL. 

His  enemies  thought  that,  if  not  dead,  at  least  he  was  ef- 
fectually silenced;  but  their  exultation  was  short,  and,  ere 
long,  no  doubt  could  exist  that  he  still  lived.  A  multitude  of 
tracts,  composed  in  the  Wartburg,  followed  each  other  in  rapid 
succession  ;  and  everywhere  the  well-known  voice  of  the  Re- 
former was  enthusiastically  responded  to.  Luther,  at  the  same 
moment,  put  forth  such  writings  as  were  adapted  to  build  up 
the  church,  and  controversial  tracts  which  disturbed  his  oppo- 
nents in  their  fancied  security.  For  nearly  a  whole  year,  he, 
by  turns,  instructed,  exhorted,  rebuked,  and  thundered  from 
his  mountain  height,  and  his  astonished  adversaries  might 
well  enquire  whether  indeed  there  was  not  something  super- 
natural in  so  prodigious  an  activity — "He  could  not  have 
allowed  himself  any  rest,"*  says  Cochlgeus.  But  the  solution 
of  the  whole  mystery  was  to  be  found  in  the  rashness  of  the 
Romish  party.  They  were  in  haste  to  profit  by  the  decree 
of  Worms,  to  put  an  end  to  the  Reformation ;  and  Luther, 
sentenced — placed  under  the  ban  of  the  empire, — and  a  pris- 
oner in  the  Wartburg,  stood  up  in  the  cause  of  sound  doctrine, 
as  if  he  were  still  at  large  and  triumphant.  It  was  especially 
at  the  tribunal  of  penance  that  the  priests  strove  to  rivet  the 
fetters  of  their  deluded  parishioners; — hence  it  is  the  Confes- 
sional that  Luther  first  assails.  "  They  allege,"  says  he,  "  that 
passage  in  St.  James,  '  confess  your  sins  to  one  another ;'  a 
strange  confessor  this — his  name  is  '  one  another  /'  Whence 
it  would  follow  that  the  confessors  ought  also  to  confess  to 
their  penitents;  that  every  Christian  should  in  his  turn  be 
pope,  bishop,  and  priest,  and  that  the  pope  himself  should 
make  confession  before  all."t 

Scarcely  had  Luther  finished  this  tract,  when  he  commenced 
another.  A  divine  of  Louvain,  named  Latomos,  already 
known  by  his  opposition  to  Reuchlin  and  Erasmus,  had  im- 
pugned the  Reformer's  statements.  Twelve  days  after,  Lu- 
ther's answer  was  ready,  and  it  is  one  of  his  masterpieces. 
He  first  defends  himself  against  the  charge  of  want  of  mode^ 

*  Cum  quiescere  non  posset.     (CochlBaus,  Acta  Lutheri,  p.  39.) 
t  Unci  dcT  Papst  miisse  ihm  bcichtcn.     (L.  0pp.  xvi,  p.  701.) 


Luther's  health.  23 

ration.  "  The  moderation  of  this  age,"  says  he,  "consists  in 
bending  the  knee  before  sacrilegious  poniifTs  and  impious  so- 
phists, and  saying,  '  Gracious  Lord,  most  worthy  master.' 
Then,  having  so  done,  you  may  persecute  who  you  will  to 
the  death;  you  may  convulse  the  world, — all  that,  shall  not 
hinder  your  being  a  man  of  moderation  I  Away  with  such 
moderation,  say  I.  Let  me  speak  out,  and  delude  no  one. 
The  shell  may  be  rough,  perhaps,  but  the  nut  is  soft  and 
tender."* 

The  health  of  Luther  continued  to  decline ;  he  began  to 
think  of  leaving  the  Wartburg,  But  what  to  do;  to  appear 
in  open  day  at  the  risk  of  his  life  ?  In  the  rear  of  the  moun- 
tain on  which  the  fortress  was  built,  the  country  was  inter- 
sected by  numerous  footpaths,  bordered  by  tufts  of  wild  straw- 
berries. The  massive  gate  of  the  castle  was  unclosed,  and 
the  prisoner  ventured,  not  without  fear,  to  gather  some  of  the 
fruit.f  Gradually,  he  became  more  venturesome,  and,  clothed 
in  his  knight's  disguise,  and  attended  by  a  rough-mannered 
but  faithful  guard  from  the  castle,  he  extended  his  excursions 
in  the  neighbourhood.  One  day,  stopping  to  rest  at  an  inn, 
Luther  laid  aside  his  sword,  which  encumbered  him,  and  took 
up  some  books  that  lay  near.  His  natural  disposition  got  the 
better  of  his  prudence.  His  attendant  took  the  alarm  lest  an 
action  so  unusual  in  a  man  of  arms,  should  excite  a  suspicion 
that  the  doctor  was  not  really  a  knight.  Another  time,  the 
two  companions  descended  the  mountain,  and  entered  the  con- 
vent of  Reichardsbrunn,  in  which,  but  a  few  months  before, 
Luther  had  rested  for  a  night,  on  his  way  to  Worms.J  Sud- 
denly, one  of  the  lay-brothers  uttered  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise— Luther  had  been  recognised.  His  keeper,  seeing  how 
the  matter  stood,  hurried  him  away,  and  it  was  not  till  they 
were  galloping  far  from  the  cloisters,  that  the  monk  recovered 
from  his  astonishment. 

*  Cortex  mens  esse  potest  durior,  sed  nucleus  meus  mollis  et  dulcis 
est.     (L.  0pp.  xvii.  Lat.  ii.  p.  213.) 

t  Zu  zeiten  gehet  er  inn  die  Erdbcer  am  Schlossberg.  (Mathesius, 
p.  33.)  t  See  Vol.  ii.  p  214. 


24 

The  life  of  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  in  his  assumed  char- 
acter  of  knight,  had,  indeed,  at  times,  a  something  about  it 
truly  theological.  One  day,  the  snares  were  made  ready — 
the  fortress  gates  thrown  open— the  sporting  dogs  let  loose. 
Luther  had  expressed  a  wish  to  partake  of  the  pleasures  of 
the  chase.  The  huntsmen  were  in  high  spirits;  the  dogs 
scoured  the  hills,  driving  the  hares  from  the  brushwood ;  but 
as  the  tumult  swelled  around  him,  the  Knight  George,  mo- 
tionless in  the  midst  of  it,  felt  his  soul  fill  with  solemn  thoughts. 
Looking  round  him,  his  heart  heaved  with  sorrow.*  "  Is  it 
not."  said  he,  "  ihe  very  picture  of  the  Devil,  setting  his  dogs, 
the  bishops,  those  messengers  of  antichrist,  and  sending  them 
out  to  hunt  down  poor  souls  ?"f  A  young  leveret  had  been 
snared :  rejoicing  to  liberate  it,  Luther  wrapped  it  in  his  man- 
tle, and  deposited  it  in  the  midst  of  a  thicket;  but  scarcely  had 
he  left  the  spot,  when  the  dogs  scented  it,  and  killed  it.  Drawn 
to  the  place  by  its  cry,  Luther  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
grief — "  O,  Pope !  and  thou,  too,  O  Satan  !  it  is  thus  that  ye 
would  compass  the  destruction  of  the  souls  that  have  been 
rescued  from  death  !"  J 

Whilst  the  Doctor  of  Wittemberg,  dead  to  the  world,  was 
seeking  to  recruit  his  spirits  by  these  occupations  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Wartburg,  the  great  work  was  progressing,  as 
if  by  its  own  power.  The  Reformation,  in  fact,  was  begin- 
ning to  take  effect.  It  was  no  longer  limited  to  teaching;  it 
now  began  to  affect  and  mould  the  life. 

Bernard  Feldkirchen,  the  pastor  of  Kemberg,  and  the  first, 
under  Luther's  direction,  to  expose  the  errors  of  Rome,||  was 
also  the  first  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  her  institutions: — he 
married ! 

*  Theologisabar  etiam  ibi  inter  retia  et  canes  ,  .  .  tantum  miseri- 
cordiae  et  doloris  miscuit  mysterium.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  43.) 

t  Gluid  enim  ista  imago,  nisi  Diabolum  signiiicat  per  insidias  suas  et 
impios  magistros  canes  suos  .  .  (Ibid.) 

X  Sic  saevit  Papa  et  Satan  ut  servatas  etiam  animas  perdat.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  44.) 

II  Vol.  i.  p.  189. 


MARRIAGE    OF    PRIESTS  25 

There  is,  in  the  German  character,  a  strong  love  of  family 
and  domestic  enjoyments: — hence,  of  all  the  injunctions  of  the 
Papal  authority,  none  had  had  more  lamentable  results  than 
the  imposition  of  celibacy.  Made  obligatory  on  tho  heads  of 
the  clergy,  this  practice  had  prevented  the  fiefs  of  the  church 
from  passing  into  hereditary  possessions.  But  extended  by 
Gregory  VII.  to  the  inferior  orders,  its  effects  had  been  in- 
deed deplorable.  Many  of  the  priests,  in  evading  the  obliga- 
tion imposed  upon  them,  by  shameful  disorders,  had  drawn 
down  hatred  and  contempt  on  their  profession;  while  those 
who  had  submitted  to  Hildebrand's  law,  were  indignant  that 
the  Church,  which  lavished  power,  riches,  and  earthly  pos- 
sessions on  its  higher  dignitaries,  should  impose  on  its  hum- 
bler ministers,  who  w^ere  ever  its  most  useful  supporters,  a 
denial  so  opposed  to  the  Gospel. 

"  Neither  the  Pope,  nor  the  Councils,"  said  Feidkirchen, 
and  another  pastor,  named  Seidler,  who  followed  his  example, 
"can  have  a  right  to  impose  on  the  Church  a  command  that 
endangers  soul  and  body.  The  obligation  to  observe  God's 
law  compels  us  to  throw  aside  traditions  of  men."*  The  re- 
establishment  of  marriage  was,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  an 
homage  paid  to  the  moral  law.  The  ecclesiastical  power,  in 
alarm,  instantly  issued  its  mandates  against  the  two  priests. 
Seidler,  who  lived  in  the  territory  of  Duke  George,  was 
given  up  to  his  superiors,  and  died  in  prison.  But  the  Elector 
Frederic  refused  to  surrender  Feidkirchen  to  the  Archbishop 
of  Magdeburg.  "His  Highness,"  said  Spalatin,  "declines  to 
act  the  part  of  a  police-officer."  Feidkirchen,  therefore,  con- 
tinued to  preside  over  his  flock,  though  a  husband  and  a 
father ! 

The  first  emotion  of  the  Reformer,  on  receiving  intelligence 
of  these  events,  was  one  of  joy.  "  I  am  all  admiration,"  says 
he,  "of  the  new  bridegroom  of  Kemberg,  who  moves  on 
fearlessly  in  the  midst  of  all  this  hubbub."  Luther  was 
satisfied  that  priests  ought  to  marry.     But  this  question  led 

*  Coegit  me  ergo  ut  humanas  traditiones  violarem,  necessitas  servandi 
juris  (livini.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  441.) 
VOL.    III.  3 


26  AND     OF    FRIARS. 

directly  to  another — the  marriage  of  friars — and  on  this  point 
Luther  had  to  pass  through  one  of  those  internal  struggles,  of 
which  his  life  was  full;  for  every  reform  was  of  necessity  to 
he  wrought  out  by  a  mental  conflict.  Melancthon  and 
Carlstadt, — the  one  a  layman,  the  other  in  priest's  oiders, — 
thouj'ht  that  the  liberty  of  contracting  the  marriage  bond 
ough'  to  be  as  free  to  the  friars  as  to  the  pri*  sts.  Luther, 
himself  a  monk,  did  not  at  first  agree  with  them  in  judgment. 
One  day,  when  the  commandant  of  the  Wariburg  had  brought 
him  some  theses  of  Carlstadt,  touching  celibacy,  "  Good 
Heaven  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  will  our  Wittemberg  friends  allow 
wives  even  to  monks?"  The  thought  overwhelmed  him,  and 
disturbed  his  spirit.  For  himself,  he  put  far  from  him  the 
liberty  he  claimed  for  others:  "Ah,"  said  he,  indignantly,  "at 
least  they  will  not  make  me  take  a  wife."*  This  expression 
is  doubtless  unknown  to  those  who  assert  that  Luther's  object 
in  the  Reformation  was  that  he  might  marry.  Bent  upon  the 
truth,  not  from  any  desire  of  self-pleasing,  but  with  upright 
intentions,  he  undertook  the  defence  of  that  which  appeared  to 
him  to  be  right,  although  it  might  be  at  variance  with  the 
general  tendency  of  his  doctrine.  He  worked  his  way  through 
a  mingled  crowd  of  truths  and  errors,  until  the  errors  had 
altogether  fallen,  and  truth  alone  remained  standing  in  his 
mind. 

There*  was  indeed  a  broad  distinction  discernible  between 
the  two  questions.  The  marriage  of  priests  did  not  draw 
after  it  the  downfall  of  the  priesthood  ;  on  the  contrar}^,  it  was 
of  itself  likely  to  win  back  popular  respect  to  the  secular 
clergy:  but  the  marriage  of  fiiars  involved  the  breaking  up 
of  the  monastic  institutions.  The  question  then  really  was, 
whether  it  was  right  to  disband  the  army  that  acknowledged 
themselves  the  soldiery  of  the  Pope.  "The  priests,"  said 
Luther,  writing  to  Melancthon,  "  are  ordained  by  God,  and 
therefore  they  are  set  above  the  commandments  of  men  ;  but 
the  friars  have  of  their  own  accord  chosen  a  life  of  celibacy, — 

♦  At  mihi  non  obtrudent  uxorem.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  40.) 


MONKERY.  27 

they  therefore  are  not  at  liberty  to  withdraw  from  the  obliga- 
tion they  have  laid  themselves  under."* 

The  Reformer  was  destined  to  advance  a  step  further,  and 
by  a  new  struggle  to  carry  also  this  post  of  the  enemy.  Al- 
ready he  had  trampled  under  his  feet  many  Romish  corrup- 
tions; nay,  even  the  authority  of  Rome  herself  But  monkery 
was  still  standing — monkery,  which  had  in  early  times 
carried  the  spark  of  life  to  many  a  desert  spot,  and,  passing 
through  successive  generations,  now  filled  so  many  cloisters 
with  sloth  and  luxury,  seemed  to  find  a  voice  and  advocate  in 
the  castle  of  Thuringen,  and  to  depend  for  life  or  death  upon  the 
agitated  conscience  of  one  man  !  Luther  struggled  for  a  while : 
at  one  moment  on  the  point  of  rejecting  it. — at  another  dis- 
posed to  acknowledge  it.  At  last,  no  longer  able  to  support 
the  contest,  he  threw  himself  in  prayer  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
exclaiming,  "  Do  thou  teach  us — do  thou  deliver  us — establish 
us  with  thy  free  Spirit,  in  the  liberty  thou  hast  given  us !  for 
surely  we  are  thy  people!"! 

And  truly  there  was  no  long  tarrying  ;  a  great  change  took 
place  in  the  Reformer's  thoughts,  and  again  it  was  the  great 
doctrine  oi  Justification  by  Faith  which  gave  victory. 

This  weapon,  which  had  put  down  indulgences,  baffled 
Romish  intrigues,  and  humbled  the  Pope  himself,  dethroned 
monkery  also  from  the  place  it  held  in  the  mind  of  Luther 
and  of  all  Christendom.  Luther  was  led  to  see  that  the  mo- 
nastic institutions  were  in  flagrant  opposition  to  the  doctrines 
of  Free  Grace,  and  that  the  life  led  by  the  monks  was  en- 
tirely grounded  on  the  assertion  of  human  merit.  Convinced 
from  that  instant,  that  the  glory  of  Christ  was  at  stake,  his 
conscience  incessantly  repeated — '  Monkery  must  yield.'  So 
long  as  Justification  by  Faith  is  clearly  held  by  the  Church, 

*  Me  enim  vehementer  movet,  quod  sacerdotum  ordo,  a  Deo  insti- 
tutus,  est  liber,  non  autem  monachorum  qui  sua  sponte  statum  eligerunt. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  34  ) 

t  Dominus  Jesus  erudiat  et  liberet  nos,  per  misericordiam  suam,  in 
libertatem  nostraui.  (Melajicthon  on  Celibacy,  6th  Aug.  1521.  ibid, 
p.  400 


28  LUTHER  ON  MONASTIC  VOWS. 

not  one  of  her  members  will  become  a  monk.*  This  per- 
suasion continued  to  gain  strength  in  his  mind,  and  as  early 
as  the  beginning  of  December,  he  addressed  to  the  bishops 
and  deacons  ''f  the  church  of  Wittemberg,  the  following 
theses — his  declaration  of  war  against  monkery  : — 

"  Whatsoever  is  not  of  faith,  is  sin. — Rom.  xiv.  23. 

"  Whoever  binds  himself  by  a  vow  of  celibacy,  of  chastity, 
of  service  to  God — without /az^A- — vows,  profanely  and  idola- 
trously,  a  vow  to  the  devil  himself 

"  To  make  such  vows  is  worse  than  to  be  priests  of  Cybele, 
or  vestals  of  Pagan  worship  ;  for  the  monks  make  their  vows 
in  the  thought  that  they  shall  be  justified  and  saved  by  them  ; 
and  that  which  should  be  ascribed  to  the  alone  mercy  of  God, 
is  thus  ascribed  to  human  deservings.  Such  convents  ought 
to  be  razed  tc  the  foundation,  as  being  abodes  of  the  devil 
There  is  but  one  Order  that  is  holy,  and  makes  men  holy, 
and  that  is — Christianity  or  Faith  t 

"  To  make  the  religious  houses  really  useful,  they  should 
be  converted  into  schools,  wherein  children  might  be  brought 
up  to  manhood;  instead  of  which,  they  are  establishments 
where  grown  men  are  reduced  to  second  childhood  for  the 
rest  of  their  lives." 

We  see  that  Luther  at  this  period  would  liave  tolerated  the 
convents  as  houses  of  education  ;  but,  ere  long,  his  attack  upon 
them  became  more  unsparing. 

The  immorality  and  shameful  practices  that  disgraced  the 
cloisters,  recurred  forcibly  to  his  thoughts.  "  It  is  my  great 
aim,"  he  wrote  to  Spalatin,  on  the  1 1th  of  November,  "  to 
rescue  the  young  from  the  hellish  fires  of  celibacy  ;"|  and  he 
proceeded  to  compose  a  tract  against  monastic  vows,  which  he 
dedicated  to  his  father.  "  Do  you  desire,"  said  he,  in  his 
dedication  to  the  old  man  at  Mansfeld,  "  do  you  still  feel  a  de- 
sire to  extricate  me  from  a  monk's  life  ?     You  have  the  right 

*  L.  0pp.  (W.)  xxii.  p.  1466. 

t  Es  ist  nicht  mehr  denn  eine  einige  Geistlichkeit,  die  da  heilig  ist, 
und  heilig  macht.  .  .  .  (L.  0pp.  xvii.  p.  7 18.) 
^  Adolesceiites  liberare  ex  isto  inferno  coelibatus.     (Ibid.  ii.  95.) 


DEDICATION    TO    HIS    FATHER,  29 

to  do  so,  for  you  are  still  my  flither,  and  I  am  still  your  son. 
But  it  is  not  needed  :  God  has  been  beforehand  with  you,  and 
has  Himself  delivered  me  from  it  by  his  mighty  arm.  What 
does  it  matter  if  I  should  lay  aside  the  tonsure  or  the  cowl? 
Is  it  the  cowl, — is  it  the  tonsure  that  constitutes  a  monk? 
'All  things  are  yours,'  said  St.  Paul,  '  and  you  are  Christ's.' 
I  belong  not  to  the  cowl,  but  the  cowl  to  me  ;  I  am  a  monk, 
and  yet  no  monk  ;  I  am  a  new  creature,  not  of  the  Pope,  but 
of  Jesus  Christ !  Christ  alone,  and  no  mere  go-between,  is 
my  bishop,  my  abbot,  my  prior,  my  lord,  my  master, — and  I 
acknowledge  no  other!  What  matters  it  to  me  if  the  Pope 
should  sentence  and  put  me  to  death ;  he  cannot  summon  me 
from  the  grave,  and  take  my  life  a  second  time.  That  great 
day  is  nigh  when  the  kingdom  of  abominations  shall  be  over- 
thrown. Would  to  God  the  Pope  would  do  his  worst,  and 
put  us  all  to  death  ;  our  blood  would  cry  to  heaven  against 
him,  and  bring  down  swift  destruction  on  him  and  his  adhe- 
rents."* 

Luther  himself  was  already  transformed:  he  felt  himself 
no  longer  a  friar,  It  was  no  outward  circumstances,  no  hu- 
man passions,  no  haste  of  the  flesh  that  had  brought  about  the 
change.  A  struggle  had  been  gone  through  :  Luther  had  at 
first  sided  with  monkery,  but  truth  had  descended  into  the 
arena,  and  monkery  was  overthrown.  The  triumphs  of  hu- 
man passion  are  short-lived,  but  those  of  truth  are  decisive  and 
durable. 

Whilst  Luther  was  thus  preparing  the  way  for  one  of  the 
greatest  changes  which  the  Church  was  destined  to  pass 
through,  and  the  Reformation  was  beginning  to  manifest  its 
effects  on  the  lives  of  Christians, — the  partisans  of  Rome,  with 
that  blind  infatuation  common  to  those  who  have  long  held 
power,  were  pleasing  themselves  with  the  thought,  that  be- 
cause Luther  was  in  the  Wartburg,  the  Reformation  was  for 
ever  at  an   end.     They  thought,  therefore,  quietly  to  resume 

*  Dass  unset  Blut  mocht  schreien,  und  dringen  sein  Gericht,  dass 
Bein  bald  ein  Ende  wiirde.     (L,  Epp.  ii.  p.  105.) 

3* 


30  SALE  OF  INDULGENCES  RESUMED. 

their  former  prqctices,  which  had  been  for  an  instant  inter- 
rupted by  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Albert,  the  Archbishop 
and  Elector  of  Mentz,  was  one  of  those  weak  persons  who, 
when  things  are  nearly  balanced,  are  found  on  the  side  of 
truth ;  but  whenever  their  own  interest  is  concerned,  are  quite 
willing  to  take  up  with  error.  His  great  aim  was  that  his 
court  should  equal  in  splendour  that  of  any  of  the  Germaa 
princes,  that  his  equipages  should  be  as  rich,  and  his  table  as 
well  served :  the  trade  in  indulgences  was  to  him  an  admira- 
ble resource  for  the  promotion  of  his  favourite  object.  Ac- 
cordingly, no  sooner  was  the  decree  against  Luther  issued 
from  the  Imperial  Chancellor's  court,  than  Albert,  who  was 
then  at  Halle,  attended  by  his  courtiers,  called  together  the 
vendors  of  indulgences,  whose  activity  had  been  paralysed  by 
the  Reformer's  preaching,  and  endeavoured  to  encourage 
them  by  such  words  as — '"  Do  not  fear,  we  have  si/enced  him  ; 
go  shear  the  flock  in  peace ;  the  monk  is  in  prison,  under 
bolts  and  bars  ;  and  this  time  he  will  be  clever  indeed  if  he 
disturbs  us  at  our  w^ork."  The  market  was  again  opened, 
the  wares  spread  out  for  sale,  and  again  the  churches  of  Halle 
resounded  -vith  the  harangues  of  the  mountebanks. 

But  Luther  still  lived ;  and  his  voice  had  power  to  pass 
beyond  the  walls  and  gratings  behind  which  he  was  concealed. 
Nothing  rould  have  roused  him  to  a  higher  pitch  of  indigna- 
tion. "  What  P'  thought  he,  "  violent  discussions  have  taken 
place,  I  have  braved  every  danger,  the  truth  has  triumphed, 
and  now  they  dare  to  trample  it  in  the  dust,  as  if  it  had  been 
^  refuted.  They  shal)  again  hear  that  voice  which  arrested 
theM-  guilty  traffic."  "  I  will  take  no  rest,"  wrote  Luther  to 
Spalatin,  "till  I  have  attacked  the  idol  of  Mentz,  and  its 
whoredoms  at  Halle."*  He  went  instantly  to  work,  caring 
little  for  the  mystery  in  which  some  sought  to  envelope  his 
seclusion  in  the  Wartburg.  He  was  like  Elijah  in  the  de- 
sert forging  new  thunderbolts  to   hurl  against  the  impious 

♦  Non  continebor  quin  idolum  Moguntinum  invadam,  cum  suo  lu- 
panari  Hallensi.    (L.  Epp.  ii,  p.  59,  7th  October.) 


Luther's  letter  to  spalatin.  31 

Ahab.  On  the  1st  of  November,  he  completed'  a  tract 
"  Ag-iinst  the  new  Idol  of  H  tile." 

The  Archbishop  had  received  information  of  Luther's  in- 
tentions. Urged  by  his  apprehensions,  he,  toward  the  middle 
of  December,  di  spatched  two  of  his  attendants,  Capito  and 
Auerbach,  to  Wittemberg-,  to  ward  off  the  blow.  "  It  is  in- 
dispensable," said  they  to  Melancthon,  who  received  them 
courteously,  "it  is  quite  indispensable  that  Luther  should 
moderate  his  impetuosity."  But  Melancthon,  though  himself 
of  gentler  spirit,  was  not  of  the  number  of  those  who  imagine 
wisdom  to  consist  in  perpetual  concession,  retracting,  and  si- 
lence. '■  God  is  making  use  of  him,"  he  replied,  "and  this 
age  requires  a  bitter  and  pungent  salt."*  On  this,  Capito, 
addressing  himself  to  Jonas,  endeavoured,  through  him,  to  in- 
fluence the  Elector's  councils. 

The  report  of  Luther's  design  had  already  spread  thither, 
and  produced  great  consternation,  "  What !"  said  the  cour- 
tiers, "  rekindle  the  flame  that  it  cost  so  much  trouble  to  sub- 
due !  The  only  safety  for  Luther  is  to  withdraw  into  the 
shade;  and  see  how  he  exalts  himself  against  the  greatest 
prince  in  the  empire."  "  I  will  not  suffer  Luther  to  write 
against  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  to  the  disturbance  of  the 
public  tranquility,"-)-  said  the  Elector. 

When  these  words  were  reported  to  Luther,  he  was  indig- 
nant. It  is  not  enough,  then,  to  confine  his  body,  they  would 
enchain  his  spirit,  and  the  truth  itself  Do  they  imagine  he 
hides  himself  from  fear  ?  or  that  his  retreat  is  a  confession  of 
defeat?  On  the  contrary,  he  contends  that  it  is  a  victory 
gained.  Who  then  in  Worms  had  dared  to  rise  up  against 
him,  in  opposition  to  the  truth  ?  Accordingly,  when  the  cap- 
tive of  the  Wartburg  had  finished  reading  Spalatin's  letter, 
apprizing  him  of  the  Elector's  intention,  he  threw  it  aside, 
resolving  to  return  no  answer.  But  he  could  not  contain  his 
feelings;  he  again  took  it  in  hand.  "And  so,  the  Elector 
will  not  suffer,  &c. !"  wrote  Luther  in  reply,  "and  I  on  my 

*  Huic  seculo  opus  esse  acerrimo  sale.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  463.) 

t  Non  passurum  principem,  scribi  in  Moguntinura.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  94.) 


32        LUTHER  TO  THE  CARDINAL  ELECTOR. 

part  will  not  suffer  that  the  Elector  should  jiot  allow  me  to 
write.  Rather  will  I  be  the  utter  ruin  of  yourself,  the  Elec- 
tor, and  the  whole  world.*  If  I  have  stood  up  against  the 
Pope,  who  created  your  Cardinal,  is  it  fitting-  that  I  should 
give  way  to  his  creature?  Truly,  it  is  very  fine  to  hear  you 
say  we  ought  not  to  disturb  the  public  peace,  while  you  per- 
mit the  disturbance  of  the  Peace  that  is  from  God.  It  shall 
not  be  so,  Spalatin  !  O  Prince  it  shall  not  stand  !+  I  send, 
with  this,  a  tract  I  had  written  against  the  Ca--dinal,  before  I 
received  your  letter  ; — please  to  hand  it  to  Melancthon." 

The  reading  of  this  manuscript  alarmed  Spalatin  ; — he 
again  urged  on  the  Reformer  the  imprudence  of  a  publication 
that  would  oblige  the  Imperial  government  to  lay  aside  itS 
affected  ignorance  of  what  had  become  of  him,  and  to  proceed 
to  punish  a  prisoner  who  assailed  the  chief  di,.:^nitary  of  the 
Church  and  Empire.  If  Luther  persisted,  the  general  tran- 
quility would  be  disturbed,  and  the  cause  of  the  Reformation 
endangered.  Luther,  therefore,  consented  to  delay  the  publi- 
cation, and  even  gave  Melancthon  leave  to  strike  out  the  more 
severe  passages.^  But  growing  indignant  at  his  friend's 
thnidity,  he  wrote  to  Spalatin, — "The  Lord  still  lives — He 
reigns, — the  Lord  whom  you  counsellors  of  the  court  cannot 
trust,  unless  He  so  shapes  his  work,  as  that  there  be  nothing 
left  to  trust  Him  in !" — and  he  forthwith  resolved  to  write  di- 
rect to  the  Cardinal. 

I?  is  the  Episcopal  authority  itself  that  Luther  calls  to  the 
bar  of  judgment  in  the  person  of  the  German  primate.  His 
words  are  those  of  a  bold  man,  burning  with  zeal  in  behalf  of 
truth,  and  feeling  that  he  speaks  in  the  name  of  God  himself 

"  Your  Electoral  Highness,"  wrote  he,  from  the  depth  of 
his  retirement,  "  has  seen  fit  again  to  set  up  at  Halle  the  idol 
that  engulphs  the  treasure  and  the  souls  of  poor  Christians. 
You  think,  perhaps,  that  I  am  disabled,  and  that  the  power  of 

*  Potius  te  et  principem  ipsum  perdam  et  omneni  creaturam.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.  p.  94.) 

t  Non  sic,  Spalatine,  non  sic,  princeps.     (Ibid.) 
X  Ut  acerbiora  tradat  (ib.  p.  liO.)  doubtless  ro^/o^. 


EFFECT    OF    THE    REFORMER'S    LETTER.  33 

the  Emperor  will  easily  silence  the  protest  of  a  feeble  monk. 
.  .  :  .  But  know  this, — I  will  fearlessly  discharge  the  duty  that 
christian  charity  lays  me  under,  dreading  not  the  gates  of  hell  I 
— and  much  less,  popes,  bishops,  or  cardinals. 

"  Therefore,  I  humbly  implore  your  Electoral  Highness  to 
call  to  remembrance  the  origin  of  this  business,  and  how  from 
one  little  spark  came  so  fearful  a  conflagration.  Then  also, 
the  world  reposed  in  fancied  security.  '  That  poor  mendicant 
friar,'  thought  they,  '  who,  unaided,  would  attack  the  Pope, 
has  undertaken  a  task  above  his  strength.'  But  God  inter- 
posed his  arm,  and  gave  the  Pope  more  disturbance  and  anx- 
iety than  he  had  known  since  first  he  sat  in  the  temple  of  God, 
and  lorded  it  over  God's  church.  That  same  God  still  lives 
— let  none  doubt  it*  He  will  know  how  to  bring  to  nothing 
the  efl^orts  of  a  Cardinal  of  Mentz,  though  he  should  be  backed 
by  four  emperors — for  it  is  His  pleasure  to  bring  down  the 
lofty  cedars,  and  humble  the  pride  of  the  Pharaohs. 

"  For  this  cause  I  apprize  your  Highness  that  if  the  idol  is  not 
removed,  it  will  be  my  duty,  in  obedience  to  God's  teaching, 
publicly  to  rebuke  your  Highness,  as  I  have  done  the  Pope 
himself  Let  not  your  Highness  neglect  this  notice.  I  shall 
wait  fourteen  days  for  an  early  and  favourable  answer.  Given 
in  my  wilderness  retreat,  on  Sunday  after  St.  Catherine's  da}^, 
1521.  Your  Highness'  devoted  and  humble,  Martin- 
Luther." 

This  letter  was  forwarded  to  Wittemberg,  and  from  thence 
to  Halle,  where  the  Cardinal  Elector  was  then  resident ;  for 
no  one  dared  venture  to  intercept  it,  foreseeing  the  storm  such 
an  act  of  audacity  would  have  called  forth.  But  Melancthon 
accompanied  it  by  a  letter  to  the  prudent  Capito,  wherein  he 
laboured  to  give  a  favourable  turn  to  so  untoward  a  step. 

It  is  not  possible  to  describe  the  feelings  of  the  young  and 
pusillanimous  Archbishop  on  the  receipt  of  the  Reformer's 
letter.  The  forthcoming  work  against  the  idol  of  Halle  was 
like  a  sword  suspended  over  his  head.     And  yet  what  must 

*  Derselbig  Gott  lebet  noch,  da  zweifd  nur  niemand  an  ....  , 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  113.) 


34  ALBERT    TO    LUTHER. 

have  been,  at  the  same  time,  the  irritation  produced  by  the 
insolence  of  the  low-born  and  excommunicated  monk,  who 
dared  address  such  language  to  a  prince  of  the  house  of  Bran- 
denburg, and  a  primate  of  the  German  church.  Capito 
besought  the  Archbishop  to  comply  with  Luther's  advice. 
Fear,  pride,  and  conscience,  which  he  could  not  stifle,  strug- 
gled long  in  Albeit's  soul.  At  length,  dread  of  the  threatened 
wn-iting,  joined,  perhaps,  to  a  feeling  of  remorse,  prevailed. 
He  stooped  to  humble  himself,  and  put  together  such  an 
answer  as  seemed  likely  to  appease  the  man  of  the  Wartburg, 
and  scarcely  had  the  fourteen  days  expired,  when  Luther 
received  the  following  letter,  more  surprising  even  than  his 
own  terrifying  epistle. 

"  My  dear  Doctor, — I  have  received  and  read  your  letter, 
and  have  taken  it  in  good  part,  as  being  well  intended :  but  I 
think  the  cause  that  has  induced  you  to  write  to  me  in  such 
a  strain,  has  for  a  long  time  past  had  no  existence.  It  is  my 
desire,  by  God's  help,  to  comport  myself  as  a  pious  bishop, 
and  a  christian  prince  ;  and  I  confess  that  for  this,  God's  grace 
is  necessary  to  me.  I  deny  not  that  I  am  a  sinful  man,  liable 
to  sin,  and  apt  to  be  led  astray,  and  even  sinning  and  going 
astray  every  day  of  my  life.  I  know  that,  without  God's 
grace,  I  am  but  worthless  and  loathsome  mire,  like  others; 
if  not  worse.  In  replying  to  your  letter,  I  would  not  omit  to 
express  the  favour  I  bear  you;  for  it  is  my  most  earnest 
desire,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  show  you  all  kindness  and  favour. 
I  know  how  to  receive  the  rebuke  of  a  christian,  and  a 
orother.     By  my  own  hand.     Albert." 

Such  was  the  strain  in  which  the  Elector  Archbishop  of 
Mentz  and  Magdeburg,  commissioned  to  represent  and  main- 
tain in  Germany  the  constitution  of  the  Church,  wrote  to  the 
excommunicated  prisoner  of  the  Wartburg !  In  thus  replying, 
did  Albert  obey  the  better  dictates  of  his  conscience,  or  was  he 
swayed  by  his  fears  1  On  the  former  supposition,  it  is  a  noble 
letter;  on  the  latter,  it  is  contesnptible.  We  would  rather 
suppose  it  to  have  proceeded  from  a  right  motive.  However 
that  may  be, 'it  at  least  shows  the  vast  superiority  of  the 


JOACHIM    OF    BRANDENBURG.  35 

servant  of  God  above  the  greatness  of  this  world.  Wliilst , 
Luther,  solitary,  a  captive,  and  under  sentence,  derived  from 
his  faith  an  unconquerable  courage,  the  Cardinal-archbishop, 
surrounded  on  all  sides  with  the  power  and  favour  of  the 
world,  trembled  in  his  chair.  Again,  and  again,  does  this 
reflection  present  itself,  and  it  affords  the  solution  of  the  strange 
enigma  offered  by  the  history  of  the  Reformation.  The 
Christian  is  not  called  to  calculate  his  resources,  and  count 
the  means  of  success.  His  one  concern  is  to  know  that  his 
cause  is  the  cause  of  God; — and  that  he  himself  has  no  aim  but 
his  Master's  glory.  Doubtless  he  has  an  enquiry  to  make, 
but  it  has  reference  only  to  his  motives;  the  Christian  looks 
in  upon  his  heart, — not  upon  his  arm :  he  regards  right, — not 
strength.  And  that  question  once  well  settled, — his  path  is  clear. 
It  is  for  him  to  go  boldly  forward,  though  the  world  and  all 
its  armies  should  withstand  his  progress ;  in  the  firm  persua- 
sion that  God  himself  will  fight  against  the  opposers. 

Thus  did  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  pass  at  once  from 
the  harshest  measures  to  pitiable  weakness :  they  had  done 
this  at  Worms,  and  these  sudden  changes  are  continuall}"- 
recurring  in  the  conflict  between  truth  and  error.  Every 
cause  destined  to  succumb,  carries  with  it  an  internal  malaise, 
which  occasions  it  to  stagger  and  fluctuate  between  opposite 
extremes.  Steadiness  of  purpose  and  energy  could  not  sanc- 
tify a  bad  cause,  but  i.hey  migh^  serve  at  least  to  gild  its  fall 
with  what  the  world  calls  glory. 

Joachim  I.,  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  Albert's  brother,  w^as 
an  example  of  that  decision  of  character  so  rare  in  our  own 
times.  Immoveable  in  his  principles,  decisive  in  action, 
knowing  when  needful  how  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  the 
Pope,  he  opposed  an  iron  hand  to  the  progress  of  the  Refor- 
mation. Long  before  this,  when  at  Worms,  he  had  urged 
that  Luther  should  be  refused  a  hearing,  and  brought  to 
punishment,  notwithstanding  the  safe-conduct  with  which  he 
was  furnished.  Scarcely  was  the  edict  of  Worms  issued, 
when  he  directed  that  it  should  be  rigorously  enforced  in  his 
states.     Luther  could  appreciate  so  decided  a  character,  and. 


38 

drawing  a  distinction  in  favour  of  Joachim,  when,  speaking 
of  his  other  adversaries,  remarked,  '•  we  may  still  pray  for  the 
Elector  of  Brandenburg."*  This  disposition  in  the  prince 
seemed  to  communicate  itself  to  his  people.  Berlin  and 
Brandenburof  lonq-  continued  closed  to  the  reformed  doc':.mes. 
But  that  which  is  slowly  received  is  firmly  held;  whilst 
countries,  which  then  hailed  the  Gospel  with  joy,  as  Belgium 
and  Westphalia,  were  ere  long  seen  to  abandon  it;  Branden- 
burg,— which  was  the  latest  of  the  German  states  to  enter  on 
the  way  of  feith, — was  destined,  at  a  later  period,  to  ttand 
foremost  in  the  cause  of  the  Reformation.! 

Luther  was  not  without  suspicion  that  the  Cardinal's  I'^tter 
was  dictated  by  some  insidious  design  suggested  by  Capito. 
He  returned  no  answer;  he  declared  to  the  latter,  that  so  long 
as  the  Archbishop,  unequal  as  he  was  to  the  care  of  a  petty 
parish,  should  hold  to  his  pretensions  as  Cardinal,  and  his 
episcopal  state,  instead  of  discharging  the  humble  duty  of  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  he  could  not  be  in  the  way  of  salva- 
tion.J  Meanwhile,  and  at  the  very  time  that  Luther  contend- 
ed against  error,  as  if  he  were  still  in  the  thick  of  the  conflict, 
he  was  at  work  in  his  retirement  as  though  regardless  of  all 
that  was  happening  outside  its  walls.  The  time  had  arrived 
when  the  Reformation  was  to  pass  from  the  closet  of  divmes, 
into  the  pri  -ate  life  of  nations;  and,  nevertheless,  the  great 
engine  by  which  this  advance  was  to  be  effected  was  not  yet 
brought  forth.  This  mighty  and  wonder-working  engine, 
from  whence  a  storm  of  missiles  was  to  be  discharged  against 
Rome,  battering  down  its  walls, — this  engine,  which  was  to 
upheave  the  burthen,  under  which  the  Papacy  then  held  down 
the  almost  stifled  Church,  and  to  communicate  to  mankind  an 
impulse  which,  ages  after,  would  still  be  ftdt,  was  ordained  to 
go  forth  from  the  old  castle  of  the  Wartburg,  and  enter,  with 

*  Helwing,  Gesch.  der  Brandeb.  ii.  p.  605. 

t  Hoc  enim  propriuin  est  illorum  hominum  (ex  March.  Brandebiirg) 
ut  quam  semel  in  religione  sententiam  approbaverint,  non  facile  deserant, 
(Leutingeri  0pp.  i.  41.) 

t  Larvam  cardinalatus  et  pompam  episcopalem  ablegare.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  132.) 


Luther's  fitness  for  the  work  37 

the  Reformer,  on  the  world's  stage  on  the  same  day  that  closed 
his  captivity. 

The  further  the  Church  was  removed  from  the  days  in 
which  Jesus,  its  true  light,  walked  on  this  earth,  the  more  did 
it  need  the  candle  of  God's  word  to  transmit  to  after  times  the 
unclouded  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  that  Divine 
Word  was  unknown  to  that  age.  Some  fragments  of  transla- 
tions from  the  Vulgate,  made  in  1477,  1490,  and  1518,  had 
been  but  coldly  received,  and  were  almost  unintelligible,  as 
well  as,  from  their  high  price,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  com- 
mon people.  The  giving  the  Scriptures  to  the  Church  in 
Germany  in  the  vernacular  tongue,  had  even  been  prohibited.* 
Added  to  which,  the  number  of  those  who  could  read^  became 
considerable,  only  when  there  existed  in  the  German  language 
a  book  of  strong  and  general  interest. 

Luther  was  ordained  to  present  his  nation  with  the  written 
word.  That  same  God  who  had  releg.ited  St.  John  in  Pat- 
mos,  that  he  might  there  write  what  he  h  id  seen,  had  shut  up 
Luther  in  the  Waitburg,  that  he  should  there  translate  his 
Word.  This  great  labour,  which  it  would  have  been  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  take  in  hand  in  the  distracting  occupations  of 
Wittemberg,  was  to  seat  the  new  edifice  on  the  solid  rock,  and, 
after  the  lapse  of  so  many  ages,  recall  Christians  from  scho- 
lastic subtleties  to  the  pure  and  unadulterated  fountains  of 
redemption  and  salvation.  The  wants  of  the  Church  loudly 
called  for  this  service,  and  Luther's  deep  experience  had  fitted 
him  to  render  it.  In  tiuth,  he  had  found  in  the  faith,  that 
rest  for  his  own  soul,  wdiich  his  fluctuating  conscience  and 
monkish  prejudice  had  so  long  sought  in  merits  ?rd  holiness 
of  his  own.  The  ordinary  teaching  of  the  Church,  the  tnc- 
ology  of  the  schools  knew  nothing  of  the  consolations  ^'hich 
faith  gives:  but  the  Scriptures  set  them  forth  powerfully, — 
and  it  was  in  the  Scriptures  that  he  had  discovered  them. 
Faith  in  God^s  icord  had  given  him  liberty !  By  faith  he  felt 
himself  freed  from  the  dogmatic  authority  of  Church,  hierar- 
chy, tradition,  the  notions  of  the  schools,  the  power  of  preju- 
♦  Codex  Diplora.  Ecclcsiae  Mogunt.  iv.  p.  460. 
VOL.    III.  4 


38  OF    TRANSLATING    THE    SCRIPTURES. 

dice,  and  commandments  of  men !  These  manifold  bonds 
which  had  for  ages  chained  down  and  silenced  all  Christen- 
dom, were  burst  asunder,  and  he  could  raise  his  head  freed 
from  all  authority  save  that  of  the  Word.  This  independence 
of  man, — this  subjection  to  God,  which  he  had  learned  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures, — he  was  anxious  to  communicate  to  the 
Church.  But  for  this  purpose  it  was  needful  that  he  should 
give  to  it  God's  own  Revelations.  There  was  a  necessity 
that  some  strong  hand  should  unclose  the  portals  of  that 
arsenal  whence  Luther  had  drawn  his  weapons,  and  that  its 
recesses,  which  had  for  ages  been  unexplored,  should  be  laid 
open  to  all  christian  people  against  the  day  of  trial. 

Luther  had,  before  this  time,  translated  some  fragments  of 
the  Holy  Scripture.  The  seven  penitential  psalms*  had  first 
occupied  his  pen.  John  the  Baptist, — Jesus  Christ, — and 
the  Reformation — alike  commenced  by  calling  men  to  repent- 
ance. It  is,  indeed,  the  principle  of  every  regeneration  in 
human  nature.  These  earlier  essays  had  been  eagerly 
bought  up,  and  had  avvakened  a  general  demand  for  more; 
and  this  desire  on  the  part  of  the  people  was  by  Luther 
regarded  as  a  call  from  God.  He  resolved  to  meet  it.  He 
was  a  captive  enclosed  within  lofty  walls;  but  what  of  that! 
he  would  devote  his  leisure  to  render  the  Word  of  God  into 
the  language  of  his  nation.  Soon  shall  we  see  that  Word 
descending  with  him  from  the  Wartburg — circulating  among 
the  families  of  Germany,  and  enriching  them  with  spiritual 
treasure,  that  had  hitherto  been  shut  up  within  the  hearts  of  a 
few  pious  persons.  "Would  that  that  book  alone,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  were  in  all  languages — before  the  eyes — in  the  ears 
— ^and  in  the  hearts  of  all."t  Admirable  words,  which  a 
well-known  society j:  engaged  in  translating  the  Bible  into  the 
vernacular  dialect  of  every  nation  under  heaven,  has,  after  a 
lapse  of  three  centuries,  undertaken  to  realise.     "  Scripture," 

*  Ps.  G,  3-2,  38,  51,  10-2,  130,  147. 

+  Et  solus  hie  liber  omnium  lingua,  manu,  oculis,  auribus,  cordibus, 
versaretur.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  116.) 
J  The  Bible  Society. 


LUTHER     AND    SATAN.  39 

says  he  again,  "  Scripture  '  without  comment  is  the  sun 
whence  all  teachers  receive  their  light.'" 

Such  are  the  true  principles  of  Christianity  and  of  the 
Reformation.  Ado  ting  these  memorable  words,  we  are  not 
to  seek  light  from  the  Fathers,  to  interpret  Scripture, — but  to 
use  Scripture  to  interpret  the  writings  of  the  Fathers.  The 
Reformers,  as  also  the  Apostles,  hold  forth  the  alone  word  of 
God  as  light,  whilst  they  exalt  the  one  offering  of  Christ  as 
the  only  righteousness.  To  mingle  commandments  of  men 
with  this  supreme  authority  of  God,  or  any  righteousness  of 
man's  own,  with  this  perfect  righteousness  of  Christ,  is  to 
corrupt  the  two  great  fundamental  truths  of  the  Gospel.  Such 
were  the  two  leading  heresies  of  Rome:  and  the  doctrines 
that  certain  teachers  would  introduce  into  the  bosom  of  the 
Reformation,  though  not  carried  to  such  a  length,  have  the 
same  tendencies. 

Luther,  taking  up  the  Greek  originals  of  the  inspired 
writers,  entered  on  the  difficult  task  of  rendering  them  into  his 
native  tongue.  Important  moment  in  the  history  of  the  Re- 
formation! thenceforth,  it  was  no  longer  in  the  hands  of  the 
Reformer.  The  Bible  was  brought  forward — md  Luther 
held  a  secondary  place.  God  showed  himself;  and  man  was 
seen  as  nothing.  The  Reformer  placed  the  Book  in  the 
hands  of  his  contemporaries:  thenceforward,  each  could  hear 
God  speaking  to  him, — -and,  as  for  himself,  he  mingled  in  the 
crowd,  placing  himself  among  those  who  came  to  draw  fioni 
the  common  fountain  of  light  and  life. 

In  translating  the  Holy  Scriptures,  Luther  had  found  that 
consolation  and  strength  which  met  his  need.  Weak  in  body 
— solitary — depressed  in  spirit  by  the  machinations  of  his  ene- 
mies, and  sometimes  by  the  indiscretions  of  his  friends — and 
sensible  that  his  life  was  wasting  in  the  gloom  of  the  old  castle, 
he  had,  at  times,  to  pass  through  awful  struggles.  In  those 
days,  men  were  much  disposed  to  carry  into  the  visible  world 
the  conflicts  that  the  soul  sustains  with  its  spiritual  enemies. 
Luther's  vivid  imagination  easily  gave  bodily  shape  to  the 
emotions  of  his  soul,  and  the  superstitions  of  the  middle  ages 


40  LUTHER  QUITS  THE  WARTBUKO. 

had  still  some  hold  upon  his  mind,  so  that  it  might  be  said  of 
him,  as  was  said  of  Calvin,  in  reference  to  his  judgment  in 
regard  to  heretics^  that  he  had  in  him  the  remains  of  Popery. 
To  Lullier,  Satan  was  not  simply  an  invisible,  though  really 
existing,  being;  he  thought  that  adversary  of  God  was  accus- 
tomed to  appear  in  bodily  form  to  man,  as  he  had  appeared  to 
Jesus  Christ.  Although  we  may  more  than  doubt  the  authen- 
ticity of  the  details  given  on  such  topics  in  his  Table  Talk 
and  elsewhere,*  history  must  yet  record  this  weakness  in  the 
Reformer.  Never  had  these  gloomy  imaginations  such 
power  over  him  as  in  his  seclusion  in  the  Wartburg.  At 
Worms,  when  in  the  days  of  his  strength,  he  had  braved  the 
power  of  the  devil, — but  now,  that  strength  was  broken,  and 
his  reputation  tarnished.  He  was  thrown  aside:  Satan  had 
his  turn — and  in  bitterness  of  soul,  Luther  imagined  he  saw 
him  rearing  before  him  his  gigantic  form. — lifting  his  finger 
as  if  in  threatening,  grinning  triumphantly,  and  grinding  his 
teeth  in  fearful  rage.  One  day  in  particular,  as  it  is  reported, 
whilst  Luther  was  engaged  in  translating  the  New  Testament, 
he  thought  he  saw  Satan,  in  detestation  of  his  work,  torment- 
ing and  vexing  him,  and  moving  round  him  like  a  lion  ready 
to  spring  upon  his  prey.  Luther,  alarmed  and  aroused, 
snatching  up  his  inkstand,  threw  it  at  the  head  of  his  enemy. 
The  apparition  vanished,  and  the  ink-bottle  was  dashed  to 
pieces  against  the  wallf 

His  stay  at  the  Wartburg  began  now  to  be  insupportable  to 
him.  He  was  indignant  at  the  timidity  of  his  protectors. 
Sometimes  he  remained  all  day  lost  in  silent  and  deep  medita- 
tion, and,  awakening  from  it,  he  would  utter  the  exclamation — 
"  Ah  !  would  I  were  at  Wittemberg !"  At  length,  he  could 
no  longer  restrain  himself: — "Enough,"  thought  he,  "enough 
of  policy."  He  must  again  see  his  friends — hear  from  their 
lips  how  things  were  going  on,  and  talk  over  all  with  them. 

*  M.  Michelct,  in  his  Memoirs  of  Luther,  devotes  no  less  than 
thirty  pages  to  the  various  accounts  of  this  incident. 

t  The  keeper  of  the  AVartburg  regularly  points  out  to  travellers  the 
mark  made  by  Luther's  iiikstand. 


THE    SORBONNE.  41 

True,  he  risked  falling  into  the  power  of  his  enemies;  but 
nothing-  could  deter  him.  Toward  the  end  of  November,  he 
secretly  quitted  the  Wartburg,  and  set  out  for  Wittemberg.* 

'A  storm  had  just  then  burst  forth  against  him.  The  Sor- 
bonne  had  at  length  spoken  out.  This  celebrated  school  of 
Paris — next  in  authority  in  the  Church  to  the  Pope  himself — 
the  ancient  and  venerable  source  whence  theological  teaching 
had  gone  forth,  had  just  issued  its  verdict  against  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  following  were  among  the  propositions  it  con- 
demned : — Luther  had  said,  "  God  ever  pardons  sin  freely,  and 
requires  nothing  fiom  us  in  return,  save  that  for  the  time  to 
come  we  live  according  to  righteousness."  He  had  added — 
"The  most  mortal  of  all  mortal  sins  is  this:  to  wit,  that  a 
man  should  think  that  he  is  not  guilty  of  damnable  and  mor- 
tal sin  in  the  sight  of  God."  He  had  also  declared,  that  the 
practice  of  burning  heretics  was  contrary  to  the  will  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  To  these  several  propositioiis,  as  well  as  to 
many  others  which  it  quoted,  the  Faculty  of  Theology,  in 
Paris,  had  replied  by  the  word,  ^'  Heresy — let  it  be  ac- 
cursed."! 

But  there  was  a  youth,  a  stripling  of  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  of  diffident  and  retiring  manners,  who  ventured  to  take 
up  the  gauntlet  that  the  first  college  in  Europe  had  thrown 
down.  It  was  no  secret  at  Wittemberg,  what  was  to  be 
thought  of  those  lofty  censures ; — it  was  known  that  Rome 
had  allowed  free  course  to  the  machinations  of  the  Domini- 
cans, and  that  the  Sorbonne  had  been  misled  by  the  influence 
of  two  or  three  fanatical  teachers  who  were  designated  in 
Paris  by  satirical  nicknames.  J  Accordingly,  in  his  apology, 
Melancthon  did  not  confine  himself  to  defending  Luther,  but 
with  the  fearlessness  which  characterizes  his  writings,  he  car- 

*  Machete  er  sich  heimlich  aus  seiner  Patmo  auf.  (L.  0pp.  xviii,  238.) 
t  Determinatio  theologorum  Parisiensium  super  doctrina  Lutherana. 

(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  366  to  388.) 

X  Damnarunt  triumviri  Beda,  Cluercus,  et  Christophoros.     Nomina 

sunt  horum  monstrorum  etiam  vulgo  nunc  nota  Belua,  Stercus,  Christo- 

tomus.     (Zwinglii  Epp,  i.  p,  176.) 

4* 


42  luther's  visit   to  wittemberg. 

ried  the  war  into  his  adversaries'  camp.  "You  say,  'he  is 
a  Manichean' — 'he  is  a  Montanist :'  you  call  for  fire  and  fag- 
got to  repress  his  madness.  And  who,  I  pray  you,  is  Monta- 
nist? Luther,  who  would  have  men  believe  Scripture  only? 
or  yourselves,  who  would  claim  belief  for  the  thoughts  of 
men  rather  than  for  the  word  of  God?"* 

And  truly  the  attaching  more  hnportance  to  man's  teaching 
than  to  God's  word  was  in  substance  the  heresy  of  Montanus^ 
as  it  is  the  real  character  of  that  of  the  Pope,  and,  indeed,  of 
all  who  rank  church  authority  or  mystical  impulses  above  the 
plain  words  of  the  Sacred  \v  ritings.  Accordingly,  the  young 
master  of  arts,  who  had  been  heard  to  say — "  I  would  rather 
die  than  relinquish  the  faith  of  the  Gospel,"!  did  not  stop 
there.  He  charged  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  with  having 
darkened  the  light  of  the  Gospel, — put  out  the  doctrine  of 
Faith, — and  substituted  a  vain  philosophy  in  plnce  of  tiue 
Christianity. :]:  The  publication  of  this  writing  of  Melancthon 
changed  the  position  of  the  parties.  He  proved  unanswerably 
that  the  heresy  v/as  in  Paris  and  in  Rome,  and  the  Catholic 
truth  at  Wittemberg. 

All  this  while,  Luther,  little  regarding  the  censures  of  the 
Sorbonne,  was  journeying  in  his  disguise  as  a  knight  toward 
the  university  city.  Various  rumours  reached  him  in  his 
journpy,  of  a  spirit  of  impatience  and  insubordination  having 
manifested  itself  among  certain  of  his  adherents.*^  He  was 
deeply  grieved  at  it.||  At  last  he  arrived  at  Wittemberg  with- 
out having  been  recognized  on  the  road  thither,  and  stopped 
at  the  door  of  Amsdorff  Immediately  his  friends  were  se- 
cretly called  together.     Among  the  first  was  Melancthon,  who 

*  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  396. 

t  Scias  me  positururri  animam  citius  quam  fidem.  (Corp.  Ref.  i. 
p.  396.) 

J  Evangelium  obscuratum  est  .  .  .  fides  extincta  ....  Ex  Chris- 
tianismo,  contra  omnem  sensum  spiritus,  facta  est  qusedam  philosophica 
Vivendi  ratio.     (Ibid.  p.  400.) 

§  Per  viam  vexatus  rumore  vario  de  nostrorum  quorumdam  impor- 
(unitate.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  109,) 

II  Liess  in  der  Stille  seine  Freu  ide  fodern.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  238.) 


PROGRESS    OF    THE    REFORMATION.  43 

had  so  often  said,  "  I  would  rather  die  than  be  separated  from 
him."*  They  met.  What  an  interview!  what  joy  !  The 
captiv  ^  of  the  Wartburg-,  surrounded  by  his  friends,  enjoyed 
the  e-  veets  of  christian  friends) li p.  He  learned  the  spread  of 
the  Reformation, — the  hopes'".''  his  brethren, — and,  delighted 
with  what  he  saw  and  heard. f  he  kneehd  down  and  prayed, 
gave  thanks,  and  then,  with  brief  delay,  set  forth,  and  returned 
to  the  Wartburg. 

His  joy  was  well  founded.  The  work  of  the  Reformation 
made,  just  then,  a  prodigious  advance.  ^  Feldkirchen,  ever  in 
the  van,  had  mounted  the  breach  ;  the  whole  body  of  those 
who  held  the  new  doctrines  were  in  motion,  and  the  energy 
which  carried  the  Reformation  from  the  range  of  teaching 
mto  the  public  worship,  to  private  life,  and  the  constitution  of 
the  Church,  revealed  itself  by  another  explosion — more  threat- 
ening to  the  papal  power  than  that  which  had  already  hap- 
pened. 

Rome,  having  rid  herself  of  the  Reformer,  thought  she  had 
extinguished  the  new  heresy;  but  it  was  not  long  before  a 
great  change  took  place.  Death  removed  the  Pontiff  who 
had  put  Luther  under  ban.  Troubles  broke  out  in  Spain,  and 
compelled  Charles  V.  to  recross  the  Pyrenees.  War  was 
declared  between  that  prince  and  Francis  the  First;  and  (as 
if  this  w^ere  not  enough  to  engross  the  Emperor's  attention.) 
Solyman  invaded  Hungary.  Charles,  thus  attacked  on  all 
sides,  found  himself  compelled  to  leave  unmolested  the  monk 
of  Worms,  and  his  religious  novelties. 

It  was  about  this  time,  that  the  bark  of  the  Reformed  Faith, 
which,  driven  in  every  direction  by  the  winds,  had  been  well 
nigh  swamped,  righted  itself,  and  rode  above  the  waters. 

It  was  in  the  convent  of  the  Augustines,  at  Wittemberg, 
that  the  Reformation  showed  itself  We  cannot  wonder  at  this : 
the  Reformer,  it  is  true,  was  not  within  its  walls,  but  no  human 
power  could  expel  from  it  the  spirit  that  had  animated  him. 

*  Q.UO  si  mihi  carendum  est,  mortem  fortius  tulero.  (Corp.  Ref.  i. 
p.  453—455.) 

+  Omnia  vehementer  placent  quae  video  et  audio.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  100.) 


44  THE    MONK    GABRIEL. 

Strange  doctrines  had  for  some  time  been  occasionally  heard 
in  the  church  where  Luther  had  so  often  preached.  A  zeal- 
ous monk,  who  filled  the  office  of  coUeg-e  preacher,  loudly 
urged  on  his  heavers  the  necessity  of  a  Reformation.  As  if 
Luther,  whose  name  was  on  every  one's  lips,  had  reached  too 
commanding  an  elevation  and  esteem,  God  seemed  to  be 
making  choice  of  mrn,  no  way  known  for  any  strength  of 
character  or  influence,  to  bring  in  the  Reformation,  for  which 
the  renowned  doctor  had  opened  a  way.  "  Christ,"  said  the 
preacher,  "instituted  the  Sacrament  of  the  Altar,  in  remem- 
brance of  his  death,  and  not  to  make  it  an  object  of  worship. 
To  bow  down  to  it  is  idolatry.  The  priest  who  communicates 
alone  or  in  private,  is  guilty  of  a  sin.  No  prior  has  the  right 
to  require  a  monk  to  say  mass  alone.  Let  one,  two,  or  three 
officiate,  and  all  the  rest  receive  the  Lord's  Sacrament  under 
both  kinds."* 

Such  was  the  change  called  for  by  the  monk  Gabriel;  and 
his  bold  words  were  heard  with  approbation  by  his  brother 
monks,  particularly  those  who  came  from  the  Low  Countries.f 
As  disciples  of  the  Gospel,  why  should  they  not  conform  in 
everything  to  its  directions  ?  Had  not  Luther  himself,  in 
writing  to  Melancthon,  in  the  month  of  August,  remarked—* 
"Henceforth,  I  v  ill  say  no  more  private  masses  ?"J  Thus 
the  friars,  the  Vi^iy  soldiers  of  the  hierarchy,  when  made  free 
by  the  Word  of  God,  boldly  took  part  against  Rome. 

In  Wittemberg  they  encountered  an  unbending  resistance 
from  the  Prior,  and  here  they  yielded, — at  the  same  time  pro- 
testing that  to  support  the  mass  was  to  oppose  the  Gospel 
of  God. 

The  Prior  had  carried  the  day.  One  man's  authority  had 
prevailed  over  all  the  rest.  It  might  have  been  thought  that 
this  stir  among  the  Augustines  was  but  a  capricious  act  of  m- 

*  Einem  2  oder  3  befehlen  Mess  zu  halten  und  die  andern  12  von 
denen  das  Sacrament  sub  utraque  specie  rait  empfahen.  (Corp.  Ref. 
i,  p.  460.) 

t  Dermeiste  Theil  jener  Parthsei  Niederlsender  seyn.     (Ibid.  476.) 

X  Sed  et  ego  amplius  non  faciam  missam  privatim  in  sBternum.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.  p.  36.) 


INTERFilRENCE    OF    THE    ELECTOR.  45 

subordination,  such  as  was  often  occurring  in  the  convents; 
but  in  reality  the  Spirit  of  God  itself  was  then  moving  chris- 
tian hearts.  A  single  voice  proceeding  from  the  seclusion  of 
a  monastery,  found  a  thousand  echoes;  and  that  which  men 
would  have  confined  to  the  knowledge  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  convent,  spread  beyond  its  walls,  and  began  to  show  itself 
in  the  heart  of  the  citjr. 

Rumours  of  the  differences  among  the  monks  were  soon  cir- 
culated in  the  town  :  the  burghers  and  students  sided  some 
with,  and  others  against  the  mass.  The  Elector's  court  in- 
terposed. Frederic,  in  some  surprise,  despatched  his  Chan- 
cellor, Pontanus,  to  Wittemberg,  with  orders  to  reduce  the 
monks  to  obedience,  putting  them,  if  necessary,  upon  bread 
and  water  ;*  and  on  the  1 2th  October,  a  deputation  of  Profes- 
sors, among  whom  was  Melancthon,  repairing  to  the  convent, 
exhorted  the  monks  to  desist  from  all  innovations,!  or  at  least 
to  wait  the  course  of  events.  This  did  but  rekindle  their  zeal ; 
and  all,  with  exception  of  their  Prior,  being  of  one  mind  in 
their  faith,  they  appealed  to  Scripture,  to  the  spiritual  discern- 
ment of  believers,  and  to  the  impartial  judgment  of  divines, — 
and  two  days  after,  handed  in  a  declaration  in  writing. 

The  Professors  proceeded  to  examine  the  question  more 
closely,  and  perceived  that  the  monks  had  truth  on  their  side. 
Having  come  to  convince  others,  they  were  convinced  them- 
selves!  What  was  to  be  done?  Conscience  pleaded — their 
perplexity  was  continually  increasing;  and  at  last,  after  long- 
hesitation,  they  came  to  a  courageous  decision. 

On  the  20lh  of  October,  the  University  reported  to  the 
Elector,  after  setting  forth  the  abuses  of  the  mass:  "  Let  your 
Electoral  Highness,"  said  they,  "  put  an  end  to  all  corrup- 
tions ;  lest,  in  the  day  of  judgment,  Christ  should  apply  to  us 
the  rebukes  he  once  pronounced  upon  Capernaum." 

Thus,  it  was  no  longer  a  handful  of  obscure  monks  who 
spoke, — it  was  the  University,  accredited  by  the  most  judi- 

*  Wollen  die  Miinche  nicht  Mes.s  halten,  sie  werden's  bald  in  der 
Ktichen  und  Keller  ompfinden.     (Corp.  B.ef.  i.  p.  4G1.) 
t  Mit  dem  Messhalten  keine  Neuerun:;^  machen.     (Ibid.> 


46  Frederic's  caution. 

cious,  as  having,  for  years  past,  been  the  great  school  of  na- 
tional instruction  :  and  thus,  the  very  agency  employed  to 
quell  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation,  was  about  to  diffuse  it  far 
and  wide. 

Melancthon,  with  that  decision  which  he  carried  into  learn- 
ing, put  forth  fifty-five  propositions  calculated  to  enlighten  the 
minds  of  enquirers. 

"  Just,"  said  he,  "  as  gazing  on  a  cross  is  no  good  work, 
but  the  bare  contemplation  of  a  sign  that  reminds  us  of  Christ's 
death." 

"  Just  as  to  behold  the  sun  is  not  to  do  any  good  work,  but 
merely  to  look  upon  that  which  reminds  us  of  Christ  and  his 
Gospel." 

"  So,  to  partake  of  the  Lord's  Supper  is  not  to  do  a  good 
work,  but  merely  to  make  use  of  a  sign  Avhich  recalls  to  re- 
membrance the  grace  bestowed  upon  us  through  Christ." 

"  But  here  is  the  difference;  namely,  that  the  symbols  in- 
vented by  men  do  only  remind  us  of  what  they  signify — 
whilst  the  signs  given  by  God,  not  merely  recall  the  things 
themselves,  but  assure  our  hearts  in  the  will  of  God." 

"  As  the  sight  of  a  cross  does  not  justify,  so  the  mass  can- 
not justify." 

"  As  the  gazing  on  a  cross  is  no  sacrifice  for  our  own  or 
others'  sins,  just  so  the  mass  is  no  sacrifice." 

"  There  is  but  one  sacrifice, — but  one  satisfaction, — Jesus 
Christ.     Beside  him  there  is  none  other." 

"  Let  such  bishops  as  do  not  withstand  the  profanations  of 
the  mass,  be  anathema."* 

Thus  spake  the  pious  and  gentle-spirited  Philip. 

The  Elector  was  astounded.  His  intention  had  been  to  re- 
store order  among  a  few  refractory  friars,  and  lo !  the  entire 
University,  with  Melancthon  at  their  head,  stand  up  to  de- 
fend them.  To  wait  the  course  of  events,  was  ordinarily,  in 
his  view,  the  most  eligible  course.     He  had  no  relish  for  ab- 

*  Signa  ab  homini])us  reperta  admonent  tantum ;  signa  a  Deo  tradita, 
praeterquam  quod  admonent,  certiiicant  etiam  cor  de  voluntate  Dei. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  478.) 


ATTACK    ON    MONKERY.  47 

rupt  changes,  and  it  was  his  wish  that  all  opinions  should  be 
left  to  work  their  own  way.  "  Time  alone,"  thought  he, 
"  throws  light  upon  all  things,  and  brings  all  to  maturity." 
And  yet  the  Reformation  was  advancing  in  spite  of  all  his 
caution  with  rapid  strides,  and  threatened  to  carry  all  before 
it.  Frederic  made  indeed  some  efforts  to  arrest  it.  His  au- 
thority,— the  influence  of  his  personal  character, — and  such 
arguments  as  appeared  to  him  most  conclusive,  were  all  called 
into  exercise  :  "  Do  not  be  hasty,"  said  he,  to  the  divines,  "  you 
are  too  few  in  number  to  effect  such  a  change.  If  it  is  well 
founded  in  Scripture,  others  will  be  led  to  see  it,  and  you  will 
have  the  whole  Church  with  you  in  putting  an  end  to  these 
corruptions.  Speak  of  these  things, — discuss  and  preach  them 
as  much  as  you  will,  but  keep  up  the  established  services." 

Such  was  the  war  waged  relative  to  the  mass.  The  monks 
had  boldly  mounted  to  the  assault ; — the  divines,  after  a  mo- 
ment of  indecision,  had  supported  them.  The  prince  and  his 
counsellors  alone  defended  the  citadel.  It  has  been  said  that 
the  Reformation  was  brought  about  by  the  power  and  author- 
ity of  the  Elector  ;  but  so  far  from  this  being  the  case,  we  see 
the  assailants  drawing  off' their  forces,  in  deference  to  the  voice 
of  the  revered  Frederic,  and  the  mass,  for  a  while,  continuing 
to  hold  its  place. 

The  heat  of  battle  was  already  beginning  to  rage  in  another 
part  of  the  field.  The  monk  Gabriel  did  not  relax  in  his  fer- 
vid appeals  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Augustines.  It  was  against 
the  condition  of  monkery  itself  he  now  dealt  his  powerful 
strokes;  and  if  the  strength  of  Romish  doctrines  was  princi- 
pally in  the  mass,  the  monastic  order  formed  the  main  support 
of  her  priestly  hierarchy.  Hence,  these  two  posts  were  the 
first  to  be  stormed.  "  No  one,"  exclaimed  Gabriel,  according 
to  the  Prior's  report,  "not  even  a  single  inmate  of  a  convent, 
keeps  God's  commandments." 

"  No  one  who  wears  a  cowl  can  be  saved.*  Whoso  enters 
a  cloister,  enters  into  the  service  of  the  Devil.     Vows  of  chas- 

*  Kein  Monch  verde  in  der  Kappe  selig.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  433.) 


48  THIRTEEN    MONKS    QUIT    THE    CONVENT. 

tity,  poverty,  and  obedience  to  a  superior,  are  contrary  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Gospel." 

These  strange  expressions  were  reported  to  the  Prior,  who 
took  care  not  to  be  present  in  church  to  hear  them. 

"  Gabriel,"  said  his  informants,  "  Gabriel  insists  that  every 
possible  means  should  be  taken  to  clear  out  the  cloisters;  that 
when  the  friars  are  met  in  the  street,  they  should  be  twitched 
by  the  cloak,  and  pointed  out  to  ridicule;  and  that  if  that  does 
not  rout  them  from  their  convent,  they  should  be  expelled  by 
main  force.  He  cries,  '  break  open  the  monastaries,  destroy 
them,  raze  them  to  their  foundations,  that  no  trace  of  them  may 
remain,  and  that  on  the  ground  they  cover,  not  one  stone  may 
be  left  of  walls  that  have  sheltered  such  sloth  and  super- 
stition.' "* 

The  friars  were  astonished  ;  their  consciences  whispered 
that  the  charge  brought  against  them  was  but  too  true  ; — that 
the  life  of  a  monk  was  not  agreeable  to  the  will  of  God ; — 
and  that  no  man  could  have  a  claim  to  their  implicit  and  un- 
limited obedience. 

In  one  day,  thirteen  Augustine  monks  quitted  the  convent, 
and  throwing  aside  the  habit  of  their  order,  assumed  the  dress 
of  the  laity.  Such  of  them  as  had  the  advantage  of  instruc- 
tion continued  their  course  of  study,  in  the  hope  of  being  one 
day  useful  to  the  Church ;  and  such  as  had  profited  little  by 
study,  sought  a  livelihood  by  working  with  their  own  hands, 
according  to  the  precept  of  the  Apostle,  and  after  the  example 
of  the  worthy  burghers  of  Wittemberg.f  One,  who  had 
some  knowledge  of  carpentry,  applied  for  the  freedom  of  the 
city,  resolving  to  marry  and  settle. 

If  Luther's  entrance  into  the  convent  of  the  Augustines  at 
Erfurth,  had  laid  the  seeds  of  the  Reformation,  the  departure 
of  the  thirteen  monks  from  the  convent  of  the  Augustmes  of 
Wittemberg  was  the  signal   of  its  taking  possession  of  the 

♦  Dass  man  nicht  oben  Stuck  von  ernem  Kloster  da  sey  gestanden, 
merken  moge.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  483.) 

t  "  Etliche  unter  den  Biirgern,  etliche  unter  den  Studenten,"  said 
the  Prior,  in  liis  address  to  the  Elector.     (Ibid.) 


THE    CORDELIERS    THREATENED.  49 

\ 

nations  of  Christendom.  For  a  period  of  thirty  years,  Eras- 
mus had  exposed  the  unprofitableness,  fatuity,  and  vices  of  the 
friars;  and  all  Europe  had  gone  with  him  in  his  ridicule  and 
contempt.  Thirteen  men  of  resolute  character  returned  to 
their  place  in  society; — and  there,  in  service  to  their  fellow 
men,  sought  to  fulfil  God's  commandments.  The  marriage 
of  Feldkirchen  was  one  of  humiliation  to  the  hierarchy  ; — the 
emancipation  of  these  thirteen  Augustines  followed  close  upon 
it,  as  a  second.  Monkery,  which  had  established  itself  in  the 
day  when  the  Church  entered  on  her  long  period  of  bondage 
and  error,  was  doomed  to  fall  whenever  the  time  came  which 
should  restore  liberty  and  truth. 

This  bold  step  occasioned  a  general  ferment  in  Wittemberg. 
All  marvelled  at  the  men  who  thus  came  forward  to  share  the 
labours  of  the  common  people,  and  welcomed  them  as  breth- 
ren: — at  the  same  time,  cries  were  heard  against  those  who 
obstinately  clung  to  their  indolent  seclusion  within  the  walls 
of  their  monastery.  The  monks,  who  adhered  to  the  prior, 
trembled  in  their  cells,  and  the  prior  himself,  carried  away  by 
the  general  feeling,  suspended  the  performance  of  private 
masses. 

In  a  moment  so  critical,  the  least  concession  necessarily- 
precipitated  the  course  of  events.  The  order  issued  by  the 
Prior  caused  a  strong  sensation  in  the  town  and  in  the  Uni- 
versity, and  produced  an  unforeseen  explosion.  Among  the 
students  and  bwrghers  of  Wittemberg,  were  some  of  those 
turbulent  spirits  whom  the  least  excitement  inflames,  and 
urges  to  criminal  excesses.  These  men  were  indignant  that 
the  same  masses,  which  were  suspended  by  the  devout  Prior, 
should  still  be  performed  in  the  parish  church  ;  and  on  the  3d 
December,  as  mass  was  about  to  be  chaunted,  they  suddenly 
made  their  way  to  the  altar,  bore  off  the  books,  and  compelled 
the  officiating  priests  to  seek  safety  in  flight.  The  Council 
and  the  University  assembled  to  take  severe  measures  against 
the  authors  of  these  disturbances.  But  the  passions,  once 
roused,  are  not  easily  calmed.  The  Cordeliers  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  Reformation  that  Kad  begun  to  show  itself  among 

VOL.    III.  5 


60  DECISION    or    MONASTIC    VOWS. 

t 

the  Augustines.  Next  day  the  students  affixed  to  the  gates  of 
their  monastery  a  threatening  placard.  Soon  after,  forty  of 
their  number  forced  their  way  into  the  chapel,  and  without 
proceeding  to  violence,  gave  such  free  expression  to  their 
ridicule,  that  the  monks  dared  not  proceed  with  the  mass.  In 
the  evening,  notice  came  advising  the  friars  to  be  on  their 
guard,  "  The  students,"  it  was  said,  "  have  planned  to  break 
into  the  monastery."  The  monks  in  alarm,  and  seeing  no 
way  of  defence  against  these  real  or  supposed  attacks,  sent  in 
haste  to  ask  protection  of  the  Council.  Soldiers  were  placed 
on  guard,  but  the  enemy  did  not  make  his  appearance.  The 
University  arrested  the  students  who  had  taken  part  in  these 
disturbances.  They  were  found  to  be  from  Erfurth,  and 
already  noted  for  their  insubordination,*  The  penalty  an- 
nexed to  their  offence  by  the  laws  of  the  University  was 
imposed  upon  them. 

Nevertheless,  it  was  felt  that  a  necessity  had  arisen  for  a 
careful  examination  of  the  lawfulness  of  monastic  vows,  A 
chapter,  composed  of  the  Augustine  monks  of  Thuringen  and 
Misnia,  assembled  at  Wittembeig  in  December  following. 
Luther's  judgment  was  acquiesced  in.  They  declared,  on  the 
one  hand,  that  monastic  vows  were  not  sinful,  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  thty  were  not  obligatory.  "  In  Christ,"  said 
they,  "there  is  neither  layman  nor  monk, — each  one  is  free 
to  Ipave  the  monastery  or  to  abide  in  it.  L^t  v.'hoever  leaves 
it,  beware  how  he  abuses  his  liberty ;  let  him  who  abides  in 
it,  obey  his  superiors, — but  with  the  obedience  of  love  ;"  and 
they  proceeded  to  prohibit  mendicity,  and  the  saying  masses 
for  nionpy:  they  also  determined  that  the  more  instructed 
monks  should  devote  themselves  to  teaching  the  word  of  God, 
and  that  the  rest  should  labour  with  their  own  hands  for  the 
support  of  their  brethren! 

Thus  the  question  of  Vows  seemed  to  be  settled,  but  that 

'  *  )n   summa  es  so'U  ji  die  Aufruhr  etliche  Studenten  von  Erffurtlj 
Crw<  ■ -let  haben.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  490.) 

+  *  orp.  Ref.  i.  p.  456. — The  editors  assign  to  this  decree  the  date 
of  OcMohfr,  before  tbe  monks  had  foTsaken  their  convent. 


CARLSTADT  S    ZEAL.  51 

of  the  Mass  was  still  undecided.  The  Elector  continued  to 
oppose  the  stream,  and  to  defend  an  institution  which  he  saw 
still  standing  in  every  nation  where  Christianity  was  professed. 
The  moderation  of  this  mild  sovereign  could  not,  however,  for 
any  length  of  time,  hold  in  the  public  mind.  Carlstadt,  above 
all,  took  part  in  the  general  ferment.  Zealous,  upright,  and 
fearless ;  prompt,  like  Luther,  to  sacrifice  every  thing  for  the 
truth;  he  had  not  the  Reformei's  wisdom  and  moderation: 
he  was  not  free  from  vanity,  and  with  a  disposition  that  led 
him  to  go  deeply  into  every  question,  he  yet  had  but  little 
power  of  judgment,  and  no  great  clearness  of  ideas.  Luther 
had  delivered  him  from  the  teaching  of  the  schools,  and  had 
led  him  to  study  the  Sciiptures;  but  Carlstadt  had  not  had 
patience  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  original  languages, 
and  had  not,  as  his  friend  had  done,  acknowledged  the  suffi- 
ciency of  God's  word.  Hence  he  was  often  taking  up  with 
singular  interpretations.  As  long  as  Luther  was  at  his  side, 
the  influence  of  the  master  restrained  the  disciple  within  due 
bounds  ;  but  Carlstadt  was  freed  from  this  wholesome  restraint. 
In  the  university. — in  the  chapel, — throughout  Wittemberg, — 
the  little  tawny-complexioned  Carlstadt,  who  had  never 
excelled  in  eloquence,  gave  utterance  to  thoughts,  at  times, 
profound,  but  often  enthusiastic  and  exaggerated.  "  What 
infatuated  folly!"  he  exclaimed,  "for  men  to  think  that  the 
Reformation  must  be  left  to  God's  working.  A  new  order  of 
things  is  opening.  The  strength  of  man  must  be  brought  in, 
and  woe  to  him  who  shall  hold  back  instead  of  mounting  the 
breach  in  the  cause  of  the  mighty  God  !" 

The  Archdeacon's  speech  communicated  his  own  impatience 
to  his  auditory.  "  Whatever  the  Pope  has  set  up  is  impious," 
exclaimed  some  men  of  sincere  and  upright  minds,  under  the 
influence  of  his  harangues.  "Let  us  not  make  ourselves 
accomplices  in  these  abominations  by  allowing  them  to  exist. 
That  which  God's  word  condemns  ought  to  be  swept  from 
the  face  of  Christendom,  without  regarding  the  commandments 
of  men.  If  the  heads  of  the  state  and  of  the  church  will  not 
do  their  duty,  let  us  at  least  do  ours.     Let  ns  leave  thinking 


52  THE    LORD  S    SUPPER. 

of  negociation,  conferences,  theses,  and  discussions,  and  let  us 
apply  the  true  remedy  to  so  many  evils.  We  want  a  second 
Elijah  to  throw  down  the  altars  of  Baal!" 

The  restoration  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord  in  this  moment 
of  ferment  and  enthusiastic  excitement,  could  not,  doubtless, 
wear  that  character  of  solemnity  and  sacredness  which  was 
given  to  it  by  the  Son  of  God  in  his  Institution  of  it  '  the  night 
that  he  was  betrayed.'  But  if  God  was  now  using  the  weak- 
ness and  passions  of  men,  it  v/as,  not  the  less.  His  own  hand 
which  was  engaged  in  re-establishing  in  the  midst  of  His 
church  the  feast  of  His  own  love. 

As  early  as  the  October  previous,  Carlstadt  had  privately 
celebrated  the  Lord's  Supper,  according  to  Christ's  appoint- 
ment, with  twelve  of  his  friends.  On  the  Sunday  before  Christ- 
mas Day,  he  announced  from  the  pulpit  that,  on  New  Year's 
Day,  he  would  distribute  the  elements  under  the  two  kinds, 
bread  and  wine,  to  all  who  should  come  to  the  altar ;  that  he 
intended  to  omit  all  unnecessary  ceremonies,*  and  should  per- 
form the  service  without  cope  or  chasuble. 

The  Council,  in  perturbation,  requested  the  counsellor  Ber- 
gen to  interfere,  and  prevent  so  disorderly  a  proceeding, 
whereupon  Carlstadt  resolved  not  to  wait  the  time  fixed.  On 
Christmas  Day,  1521,  he  preached,  in  the  parochial  church, 
on  the  duty  of  abandoning  the  mass,  and  receiving  the  sacra- 
ment under  both  kinds.  The  sermon  being  ended,  he  came 
down,  took  his  place  at  the  altar,  and  after  pronouncing,  in 
German,  the  words  of  institution,  said  solemnly,  turning  to- 
wards the  people, — "  If  any  one  feels  the  burthen  of  his  sins, 
and  is  hungering  and  thirsting  for  the  grace  of  God,  let  him 
draw  near,  and  receive  the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord. "f 
Then,  without  elevating  the  host,  he  distributfd  to  each  one 
the  bread  and  wine,  saying,  "  This  is  the  cup  of  my  blood, 
the  blood  of  the  new  and  everlasting  covenant." 

♦  Und  die  anderen  Schirymstege  alle  aussen  lassen.  (Corp.  Ref.  i. 
p.  512.) 

+  Wer  mit  Siinden  beschwert  und  nach  der  Gnade  Gottes  hungrig 
und  durstig.     (Ibid.  p.  540.) 


TOWN-COUNCIL    OF    WITTEMBERG.  53 

Conflicting  feelings  reigned  in  the  assembly.  Some,  in  the 
sense  that  a  further  grace  of  God  was  given  to  the  Church, 
drew  near  the  altar  in  silent  emotion.  Others,  attracted  prin- 
cipally by  the  novelty  of  the  occasion,  approached  in  some 
confusion,  and  with  a  kind  of  impatience.  Not  more  than  five 
communicants  had  presented  themselves  in  the  conft  ssional, — 
the  rest  took  part  only  in  the  public  confession  of  sins,  Carl- 
stadt  gave  to  all  the  general  absolution,  laying  upon  them  no 
other  penance  than  this.  "  Sin  no  morel''' — In  conclusion,  the 
communicants  sang  the  Agnus  Dei* 

Carlsfadt  met  with  no  opposition  :  the  changes  we  are  nar- 
rating had  already  obtained  general  concurrence.  The  Arch- 
deacon administered  the  Lord's  Supper  again  on  New  Year's 
Day,  and  also  on  the  Sunday  following,  and  fiom  that  time 
the  regular  observance  of  it  was  kept  up.  Einsideln,  one  of 
the  Elector's  council,  having  rebuked  Carlstadt  for  seeking 
his  own  exaltation,  rather  than  the  salvation  of  his  hearers — 
"  Noble  Sir  !"  answered  he,  '■'  I  would  meet  death  in  any 
form,  rather  than  desist  from  following  the  Scripture.  The 
word  has  come  to  me  so  quick  and  powerful  ....  woe  is  me 
if  I  do  not  preach."!     Soon  after  this,  Carlstadt  married. 

In  the  month  of  January,  the  town-council  of  Wittcmberg 
issued  regulations  for  the  celebration  of  the  Supper  according 
to  the  amended  ritual.  Steps  were  also  taken  to  restore  the 
influence  of  religion  upon  public  morals ; — for  it  was  the  office 
of  the  Reformation  to  re-establish,  simultaneously,  faith,  chris- 
tian worship,  and  general  moraliiy  It  was  decreed  that  public 
beggars  should  be  no  longer  tolerated,  whether  friars  or 
others ;  and  that  in  each  street,  some  man,  well  reported  of 
for  piety,  should  be  commissioned  to  take  care  of  the  poor, 
and  to  summon  before  the  University  or  the  Council  such  as 
were  guilty  of  disorders.^ 

*  Wenn  man  communicirt  hat,  so  singt  man :  Agnus  Dei  carmen. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  540.) 

t  Mir  ist  (las  Wort  fast  in  grosser  Geschwindigkeit  eingefallen, 
(Ibid.  p.  545.) 

t  Keinen  offenbaren  Sunder  zu  dulden  ....  (Ibid,  p.  540.) 
5* 


54  ERRORS    OF    POPERY. 

So  fell  that  grand  bulwark  of  Romish  dominion, — the 
Mass.  Thus  it  was  that  the  Reformation  passed  beyond  the 
sphere  of  teaching,  into  that  of  public  worship.  For  three 
centuries,  the  mass  and  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  had 
been  regularly  established.*  Throughout  that  long  period, 
all  things  within  the  Church  had  a  new  tendency  impressed 
upon  them,  and  every  thing  conspired  to  favour  the  pride  of 
man  and  the  honour  paid  to  the  priest.  The  holy  sacrament 
had  been  adored, — regular  festivals  had  been  instituted  in 
honour  of  the  most  stupendous  of  miracles, — the  worship  of 
Mary  had  risen  high  in  the  scale  of  public  estimation, — the 
priest,  who  in  the  consecration  of  the  elements  was  supposed 
to  receive  mysterious  power  to  change  them  into  the  very  body 
of  Christ,  had  been  separated  from  the  class  of  laity,  and,  to 
use  the  words  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  had  become  a  '  mediator 
between  God  and  man,'t — celibacy  had  been  proclaimed  as 
an  inviolable  law, — auricular  confession  was  enforced  upon 
the  people,  and  the  cup  of  blessing  denied  them, — for  how, 
indeed,  should  common  people  be  ranged  on  the  same  line 
with  priests,  honoured  with  the  most  solemn  of  all  ministra- 
tions. The  Mass  cast  reproach  upon  the  Son  of  God,  it  was 
opposed  to  the  perfect  remission  through  his  cross,  and  the 
spotless  glory  of  his  everlasting  kingdom ; — but,  whilst  it  dis- 
paraged the  glory  of  the  Lord,  it  exalted  the  priest, — whom  it 
invested  with  the  inconceivable  power  of  reproducing,  in  hand, 
and  at  will,  the  Sovereign  Creator  of  all  things!:};  Thence- 
forward the  Church  seemed  to  exist — not  to  preach  the  Gos- 
pel, but  only  to  reproduce  Christ  in  the  flesh  f  The  Roman 
Pontiff,  whose  obedient  vassals,  at  their  pleasure,  created  the 
body  of  God  himself, — took  his  seat  as  God,  in  the  temple  of 
God,  and  asserted  his  claim  to  a  spiritual  treasury,  from 
whence  to  draw  forth  at  will  indulgences  for  the  pardon  of 
men's  sins. 

*  By  the  Council  of  Lateran,  in  121.5. 

+  Sacerdos  constUuitur  medius  inter  Deum  et  populum.  (Th.  Aquin. 
Summa  iii.  p.  22.) 

X  Perfectio  hujus  sacramenti  non  est  in  usu  fidelium,  sed  in  con- 
secratione  materiae,     (Th.  Aquin.  Summa,  Gtuest.  80.) 


FANATICS    OF    ZWICKAtJ.  55 

Such  were  the  gfross  errors  which  for  a  period  of  three  cen- 
turies had  established  themselves  in  the  Church  in  connection 
with  the  mass.  The  Reformation,  by  abolishing-  this  thing  of 
man's  setting  up,  swept  aw;iy  all  the  abuses  blended  with  it. 
The  proceeding  of  the  Archdeacon  was  therefore  full  of  im- 
portant results.  The  costly  shows  that  amused  the  people,  the 
worship  of  the  Virgin,  the  pride  of  the  clergy,  and  the  papal 
authority,  were  all  shak^^n.  The  glory  was  withdrawn  from 
the  priests,  and  returned  to  rest  on  Jesus, — and  the  Reforma- 
tion advanced  a  step  farther. 

Nevertheless,  prejudiced  observers  might  have  seen  nothing 
in  all  that  was  going  on,  but  what  might  be  deemed  the  effect 
of  passing  enthusiasm.  Facts  were  needed,  that  should  give 
proof  of  the  contrary,  and  demonstrate  that  there  was  a  deep 
and  broad  distinction  between  a  Reformation  based  on  God's 
word  and  any  mere  fanatical  excitement. 

Whenever  a  great  ferment  is  working  in  the  Church,  some 
impure  elements  are  sure  to  mingle  with  the  testimony  given 
to  truth ;  and  some  one  or  more  pretended  reforms  arise  out 
of  man's  imagination,  and  serve  as  evidences  or  countersigns 
of  some  real  reformation  in  progress.  Thus  many  false 
Messiahs  in  the  first  century  of  the  Church,  were  an  evidence 
that  the  true  Messiah  had  already  come.  The  Reformation 
of  the  sixteenth  century  could  not  run  its  course  without  pre- 
sentina:  the  like  phenomenon,  and  it  was  first  exhibited  in  the 
little  village  of  Zwickau. 

There  were  dwelling  at  Zwickau  a  few  men,  who,  being 
deeply  moved  by  the  events  passing  around  them,  looked  for 
special  and  direct  revelations  from  the  Deity,  instead  of  desir- 
ing, in  meekness  and  simplicity,  the  sanctification  of  their  af- 
fections. These  persons  asserted  that  they  were  commission- 
ed to  complete  that  Reformation  which  in  their  view  Luther 
had  but  feebly  begun.  "  What  is  the  use,"  asked  they,  "  of 
such  close  application  to  the  Bible?  Nothing  is  heard  of 
but  the  Bible.  Can  the  Bible  preach  to  us?  Can  it  sufiice 
for  our  instruction?  If  God  had  intended  to  instruct  us  by  a 
book,  would  he  not  have  given  us  a  Bible  direct  from  heaven  I 


56  THE    NEW    PROPHETS. 

It  is  only  the  Spirit  that  can  enHghtcn !  God  himself 
speaks  to  us,  and  shows  us  what  to  do  and  say."  Thus  did 
these  fanatics,  playing  into  the  hands  of  Rome,  impugn  ihe 
fundamental  principle  on  which  the  whole  Reformation  is 
based ;  namely,  the  perfect  sufficiency  of  the  Word  of  God. 

Nicolas  Stoich,  a  weaver,  publicly  decl:u>d  that  the  angel 
Gabriel  had  appeared  to  him  by  night,  and  after  revealing  to 
him  matters  he  was  not  allowed  to  divulge,  had  uttered  the 
words — "Thou  shalt  sit  on  my  throne  !"*  A  senior  student 
of  Wiitemberg,  named  Mark  Stubner,  joined  Storch,  and  forth- 
with abandoned  his  studies. — for,  according  to  his  own  state- 
ment, he  had  received  immediately  from  God  the  ability  to 
interpret  holy  Scripture.  Mark  Thomas,  also  a  weaver,  as- 
sociated himself  with  them  ;  and  another  of  the  initiated,  by 
name  Thomas  Munzer,  a  man  of  fanatical  turn  of  mind,  gave 
to  the  new  sect  a  regular  organization.  Resolving  to  act  ac- 
cording to  the  example  of  Clxrist,  Storch  chose  from  among 
his  followers  twelve  apostles  and  seventy  disciples.  All  these 
loudly  proclaimed,  as  we  have  lately  heard  it  asserted  by  a  sect 
of  our  own  days,  that  Apostles  and  Prophets  were  at  last  re- 
stored to  the  Church. t 

Ere  long,  the  new  prophets,  in  accordance  with  this  plan 
of  adhering  to  the  exampl;^  of  those  of  holy  writ,  began  to 
declare  their  mission — "Woe,  woe!"  they  exclaimed,  "a 
church  under  human  governors,  corr.upted  like  the  bishops, 
cannot  be  the  church  of  Christ.  The  ungodly  rulers  of 
Christendom  will  soon  be  cast  down.  In  five,  six,  or  seven 
years,  a  time  of  universal  desolation  will  cor  ^ ;;  upon  the  earth. 
The  Turk  will  get  possession  of  Germany;  the  clergy,  not 
even  excepting  those  who  have  married,  shall  be  slain.  The 
ungodly  sinners  shall  all  be  destroyed ;  and  when  the  earth 
shall  have  been  purified  by  blood,  supreme  power  shall  bo 
given  to  Storch,  to  install  the  saints  in  the  government  of  the 

*  Advolasse  Gabrielem  Angelum.  (Camerarii  Vita  Melancthonis, 
p.  48.) 

t  Breviter,  de  sese  praedicant,  viros  esse  propheticos  et  apostolicos. 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  514.) 


NICOLAS  maussman.  57 

earth.*  Then  shall  there  be  pne  Faith  and  one  Baptism! 
The  day  of  the  Lord  draweth  nigh,  and  the  end  of  all  things 
is  at  hand.  Woe!  woe!  woe!"  Then  publicly  declaring 
that  infltnt  baptism  was  of  no  avail,  the  new  prophets  called 
upon  all  to  draw  near,  and  receive  at  their  hands  a  true  bap- 
tism, in  token  of  their  entrance  into  the  new  Church  of 
God. 

Such  preaching  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  popular 
mind.  Not  a  few  devout  persons  were  startled  by  the  thought 
that  prophets  were  again  given  to  the  Church,  and  those  on 
whom  the  love  of  the  marvellous  had  most  power,  threw 
themselves  into  the  open  arms  of  the  eccentric  preachers  of 
Zwickau. 

But  scarcely  had  this  heresy,  which  had  shown  itself  of 
old  in  the  days  of  Montanism,  and  again  in  the  middle  ages, 
drawn  together  a  handful  of  separatists,  when  it  encountered 
in  the  Reformation  a  strong  opposing  power.  Nicolas  Hauss- 
man,  to  whom  Luther  gave  that  noble  testimony — "  What  we 
teach,  he  <jc/5,"t  was  at  this  time  the  pastor  of  Zwickau. 
This  good  man  was  not  led  away  by  the  pretensions  of  the 
false  prophets.  Supported  by  his  two  deacons,  he  successfully 
resisted  the  innovations  Storch  and  his  followers  were  seeking* 
to  introduce.  The  fanatics,  repelled  by  the  pastors  of  the 
church,  ff  11  into  another  extravagance :  they  formed  meetings, 
in  which  doctrines  subversive  of  order  were  publicly  preach- 
ed. The  people  caught  the  infection,  and  disturbances  were 
the  consequence  ;  a  priest,  bearing  the  sacrament,  was  pelted 
with  stones,!  and  the  civil  authority  interfering,  committed  ih© 
most  violent  of  the  party  to  prison.^  Indignant  at  this  treat-* 
ment,  and  intent  upon  justifying  themselves  and  obtaining  re- 

*  Ut  rerum  potiatur  et  instauret  sacra  et  respublicas  tradat  Sanctis 
viris  tenendas.     (Camerar.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  45.) 

t  Cluod  nos  docemus,  ille  facit. 

t  Einen  Priester  der  das  Venerabile  getragen  mit  Steinen  geworfen. 
(Seek.  p.  482.) 

$  Sunt  et  ilUc  in  vincula  conjecti.     (Mel.  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  513.) 


58  MELANCTHON  AND  FTUBNER. 

dress,  Storch,  Mark  Thomas,  and  Stubner,  repaired  to  Wit- 
temberg.* 

They  arrived  on  the  27th  December,  1521.  Storch,  lead- 
ing the  way  with  the  port  and  bearing  of  a  Lanzkriecht,t  and 
Mark  Thomas  and  Stubner  following  behind.  The  disorder 
that  reigned  in  WiUeniberg  was  favourable  to  their  designs. 
The  youth  of  the  academies,  and  the  class  of  citizens  already 
roused  and  excited,  were  well  prepared  to  give  ear  to  the  new 
teachers. 

Making  sure  of  co-operation,  they  waited  upon  the  Univer- 
sity Pioftssors,  to  receive  their  sanction:  "  V/e,"  snid  they, 
"are  sent  by  God  to  toach  the  people.  The  Lord  has  fa- 
voured us  with  special  communications  from  Himself;  we 
have  the  knowledge  of  things  which  are  coming  upon  the 
earth. t  In  a  word,  we  are  Apostles  and  Prophets,  and  we 
appeal,  for  the  truth  of  what  we  say,  to  Doctor  Luther."  The 
Professors  were  amazed. 

"Who  commissioned  you  to  preach?"  enquired  Melanc- 
thon  of  Stubner,  who  had  formerly  studied  under  him,  and 
whom  he  now  received  at  his  table. — "  The  Lord  our  God," 
— "  Have  you  committed  anything  to  writing?" — "  The  Lord 
our  God  has  forbidden  me  to  do  so."  Melancthon  drew 
back,  alarmed  and  astonished. 

"There  are  indeed  spiritsof  no  ordinary  kind  in  these  men," 
said  he;  "but  ivhat  spirits?  .  .  .  none  but  Luther  can  solve 
the  doubt.  On  the  one  hand  let  us  beware  of  quenching  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  on  the  other,  of  being  seduced  by  the 
spirit  of  the  devil." 

Storch,  who  was  of  a  restless  disposition,  soon  left  Wittem- 
berg;  Stubner  remained  behind.  Actuated  by  an  ardent 
desire  to  make  proselytes,  he  went  from  house  to  house,  con- 
versing  with    one   and   another,   and   persuading   many   to 

*  Hue  advolarunt  tres  viri,  duo  lanifices,  literarum  rudes,  literatus 
tertius  est.     (Mel.  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  513.) 

t  Incedens  more  et  habitu  militum  iptorum  quos  Lanzkwcht  dlcimus. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  245.) 

J  Esse  sibi    cum    Deo    familiaria  ccUoquia,    videre  futura 

(Mel.  Elector!,  27th  Dec,  1521.     Corp.  Ref.  i.  p,  514.) 


melancthon's  perplexity.         59 

acknowledge  him  as  a  prophet  of  God.  He  especially 
attached  himself  to  Cellarius,  a  Suabian,  a  frieiid  of  Melanc- 
thon,  and  master  of  a  school  attended  by  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  young  persons.  Cellarius  admitted,  with  blind  confi- 
dence, the  claims  of  the  new  Apostles. 

Melancthon's  perplexity  and  uneasiness  continued  to  increase. 
It  was  not  so  much  the  visions  of  the  prophets  of  Zwickau,  as 
their  doctrine  concerning  Baptism,  that  disturbed  him.  To 
him  it  seemed  agreeable  to  reason, — and  he  thought  it  de- 
served to  be  examined  into, — "for,"  observed  he,  "nothing 
should  be  lightly  received  or  rejected."* 

Such  was  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation.  In  this  hesitation 
and  struggle  of  Melancthon,  we  have  an  evidence  of  his  up- 
rightness, which  does  him  more  honour  than  a  determined 
opposition  could  have  done. 

The  Elector  himself,  whom  Melancthon  termed  "the  light 
ofIsrael,"+  had  his  doubis.  "  Prophets  and  Apostles  in  the 
electorate  of  Saxony,  as  of  old  time  in  Jerusalem  !  It  is  a 
solemn  question, '  said  he,  "and  as  a  layman,  I  cannot  decide 
it.  But  rather  than  fight  against  God,  I  would  take  to  my 
stafT,  and  descend  from  my  throne!" 

On  reflection,  he  intimated  by  his  counsellors,  that  Wittem- 
berg  had  quite  sufRcient  trouble  in  hand :  that  it  was  most 
likely  the  claims  of  the  men  of  Zwickau  were  a  temptation 
of  the  devil,  and  that  the  wisest  course  appeared  to  be  to  allow 
the  whole  matter  to  settle  down, — that  neverthehss  whenever 
his  Highness  should  clearly  perceive  what  was  God's  will,  he 
would  not  confer  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  was  ready  to 
endure  every  thing  in  the  cause  of  truth. ;{: 

Luther  received  in  tr.eWartburg  intelligence  of  the  ferment 
at  the  court  of  Wittemberg.  His  informants  apprized  him  of 
strange  persons  havmg  made  their  appearance,  and  that,  as  to 
their  message,  it  was  not  known  from  whence  it  came.     The 

*  Ccnsebat  enim  neque  a(]mittendum  neque  rejiciendum  quicquam 
temere.     (Canier.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  49.) 

t  Electori  lucernae  Israel.     (Ibid.  p.  513.) 

X  Daiuber  auch  leiden  was  S.  C.  G.  leiden  sollt.     (Ibid,  p.  537.) 


60  carlstadt's  zeal. 

thought  instantly  occurred  to  him,  that  God  had  permitted 
these  deplorable  events  in  order  to  humble  his  servants,  and  to 
rouse  them  to  seek  higher  degrees  of  sanctification.  "  Your 
Highness,"  said  he,  in  a  letter  to  the  Elector,  "your  High- 
ness for  many  a  year  collected  reliques  far  and  wide ;  God 
has  heard  your  prayers,  and  sent  you,  at  no  cost  or  trouble  of 
your  own,  a  whole  cross,  with  nails,  spears,  and  scourges. 
God  prosper  the  newly  acquired  relic  !  Only  let  your  High- 
ness spread  out  your  arms,  and  endure  the  piercing  of  the 
nails  in  your  flesh.  I  always  expected  that  Satan  would  send 
us  this  plague." 

Nevertheless,  there  was  nothing,  according  to  his  judgment, 
more  urgent  than  to  secure  to  others  the  liberty  he  claimed 
for  himself  He  would  have  no  divers  weights  or  measures: 
"Pray  let  them  alone;  don't  imprison  them,"  wrote  he  to 
Spalatin;  "let  not  our  prince  embrue  his  hands  in  the  blood 
of  the  prophets  that  have  risen  up."*  Luther  was  far  beyond 
the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  even  beyond  many  of  the 
Reformers  in  the  matter  of  toleration. 

Affairs  were  daily  growing  more  serious  in  Wittemberg.f 

Carlstadt  did  not  receive  manj'-  things  taught  by  the  new 
teachers,  and  especially  their  anabaptist  doctrine;  but  there  is 
something  contagious  in  religious  enthusiasm,  which  a  head 
like  his  could  with  difficulty  withstand.  From  the  time  the 
men  of  Zwickau  arrived  in  Wittemberg,  Carlstadt  had  accel- 
erated his  movements  in  the  direction  of  violent  changes  :  "  It 
is  become  necessary,"  cried  he,  "  that  we  should  exterminate 
all  the  ungodly  practices  around  us.J  He  brought  forward 
all  the  texts  against  image  worship,  and  with  increased  vehe- 
mence declaimed  against  Romish  idolatry — "  People  kneel," 
?aid  he,  "and  crawl  before  those  idols;  burn  tapers  before 
their  shrines,  and  make  offerings  to  them.  Let  us  arise,  and 
drag  the  worshippers  from  their  altars!" 

Such  appeals  were  not  lost  upon  the  populace.    They  broko 

♦  Ne  princeps  manus  cruentet  in  prophetis.  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  135.) 
t  Ubi  fiebant  omnia  in  dies  difficiliora.  (Camer.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  49.) 
t  Irruendum  et  demoliendum  statim.     (Ibid.) 


C0NTE3IPT    OF    LEARNING.  61 


into  churches,  carried  off  the  images,  breaking  them  in  pieces, 
and  burning  them.*  Better  would  it  have  been  to  have  await- 
ed their  abolition  by  authority;  but  the  cautious  advances  of 
the  leaders  of  the  Reformation  were  thought  to  compromise  its 
security. 

It  was  not  long  before  one  who  listened  to  these  enthusiasts 
might  have  thought  that  there  w^e  no  real  Christians  in  all 
Wittemberg,  save  only  those  who  refused  to  come  to  confes- 
sion, persecuted  the  priests,  and  ate  meat  on  fast  days.  The 
Dare  suspicion  that  he  did  not  reject,  one  and  all,  the  ceremo- 
nies of  the  Church  as  inventions  of  the  devil,  was  enough  to 
subject  a  man  to  the  charge  of  being  a  worshipper  of  Baal. 
"  We  must  form  a  church,"  they  exclaimed,  "that  shall  con- 
sist of  the  Saints  alone  I" 

The  burghers  of  Wittemberg  presented  to  the  Council  cer- 
ain  regulations  which  it  was  compelled  to  sanction.  Several 
of  these  regulations  were  conformable  to  christian  morals 
The  closing  of  places  of  amusement  was  particularly  insisted 
upon. 

But  soon  after  this,  Carlstadt  went  still  greater  lengths;  he 
began  to  pour  contempt  upon  human  learning;  and  the  stu- 
dents heard  their  aged  tutor  advising  them,  from  his  rostrum, 
to  return  to  their  homes,  and  resume  the  spade,  or  follow  the 
plough,  and  cultivate  the  earth,  because  man  was  to  eat  bread 
in  the  sweat  of  his  brow^  George  Mohr,  master  of  the  boys* 
school  of  Wittemberg,  carried  away  by  a  similar  madness, 
called  from  his  window  to  the  burghers  outside  to  come  and 
remove  their  children.  Where  indeed  was  the  use  of  their 
pursuing  their  studies,  since  Storch  and  Stubner  had  never 
been  at  the  University,  and  yet  were  prophets?  A  mechanic 
was  just  as  well,  nay  perhaps  better  qualified  than  all  the  di- 
vines in  the  world,  to  preach  the  Gospel ! 

Thus  it  was  that  doctrines  were  put  forth  directly  opposed 
to  the  Reformation.  The  revival  of  letters  had  opened  a  way 
for  the  reformed  opinions.     Furnished  with  theological  learn- 

♦  Die  Bilder  zu  sturmen  und  aus  den  Kirchen  zu  werfen.  (Math« 
p.  31.)  ^. 

VOL.    IIL  6 


62  OCCUPATIONS  OF  THE  ELECTOR. 

ingj  Luther  had  joined  issue  with  Rome ; — and  the  Wittem- 
berg  enthusiasts,  similar  to  those  fanatical  monks  exposed  by 
Erasmus  and  Reuchlin,  pretended  to  trample  under  foot  all 
human  learning !  Only  let  Vandalism  once  establish  its  sway, 
and  the  hopes  of  the  world  were  gone  ;  and  another  irruption 
of  barbarians  would  quench  the  light  which  God  had  kindled 
among  Christian  people.    * 

It  was  not  long  before  the  results  of  these  strange  lessons 
began  to  show  themselves.  Men's  minds  were  diverted  from 
the  Gospel,  or  prejudiced  against  it:  the  school  was  almost 
broken  up,  the  demoralised  students  burst  the  bands  of  disci- 
pline, and  the  states  of  Germany  recalled  such  as  belonged  to 
their  several  jurisdictions.*  Thus  the  men  who  aimed  at  re- 
forming, and  infusing  new  vigour  into  every  thing,  had  brought 
all  to  the  brink  of  ruin.  "  One  more  effort,"  thought  the  par- 
tisans of  Rome,  who,  on  all  sides,  were  again  lifting  their 
heads,  "  and  all  will  be  ours  !"f 

The  prompt  repression  of  these  fanatical  excesses  was  the 
only  means  of  saving  the  Reformation.  But  who  should  un- 
dertake the  task  ?  Melancthon  ?  He  was  too  young,  too  de- 
jficient  in  firmness,  too  much  perplexed  by  this  strange  con- 
juncture of  cireumstanees.  The  Elector?  He  was  the  most 
pacific  man  of  his  age.  To  build  his  castles  of  Altenburg, 
Weimar,  Lochau,  and  Coburg,  to  adorn  the  churches  with 
fine  pictures  by  Lucas  Cranach,  to  improve  the  chauntings  in 
his  chapels,  to  advance  the  prosperity  of  his  university,  and 
promote  the  happiness  of  his  subjects;  to  stop  in  his  walks 
and  distribute  little  pres<=*nts  to  playful  children, — such  were 
the  tranquil  occupations  of  his  life;  and  now,  in  his  declining 
years,  to  engage  in  conflict  with  fanatics,  and  oppose  violence 
to  violence, — how  could  the  gracious  and  pious  Frederic  take 
such  a  step  ? 

The  evil,  therefore,  was  gaining  ground,  and  no  one  stept 
forward  to  arrest  its  progress.  Luther  was  absent  far  from 
Wittemberg.     Confusion  and  ruin  impended   over  the  city. 

♦  Etliche  Fursten  ihre  Bewandten  abgefordert.  (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  560.) 
t  Perdita  et  funditus  diruta.     (Cam.  Vit.  Mel.  p.  52.) 


63 

The  Reformation  beheld,  proceeding-,  as  it  were,  from  its  own 
bosom,  an  enemy  more  to  be  dreaded  than  Popes  and  Emper- 
ors.    It  was  as  if  on  the  brink  of  an  abyss. 

"  Luther !  Luther !"  was  the  cry  from  one  end  of  Wit- 
temberg  to  the  other.  The  burghers  were  clamorous  for  his 
re-appearance.  Divines  felt  their  need  of  the  benefit  of  his 
judgment ;  even  the  prophets  appealed  to  him.  All  united  in 
entreating  him  to  return.* 

We  may  guess  what  was  passing  in  the  Reformer's  mind. 
The  harsh  usage  of  Rome  seemed  nothing  when  compared 
with  what  now  wrung  his  heart.  It  is  from  the  very  midst 
of  the  Reformation  that  its  enemies  have  gone  forth.  It  is 
preying  upon  its  own  vitals ;  and  that  teaching,  which,  by  its 
power,  had  sufficed  to  restore  peace  to  his  troubled  heart,  he 
beholds  perverted  into  an  occasion  of  fatal  dissensions  in  the 
Church. 

"If  I  knew,"  said  Luther,  at  an  earlier  period,  "that  my 
doctrine  had  injured  one  human  being,  however  poor  and  un- 
known,— which  it  could  not,  for  it  is  the  very  Gospel, — I 
would  rather  face  death  ten  times  over,  than  not  retract  it.f 
And  lo !  now,  a  whole  city,  and  that  city  Wittemberg  itself,  is 
sinking  fast  into  licentiousness."  True,  indeed,  the  doctrine 
he  had  taught  had  not  been  the  cause  of  all  this  evil ;  but  from 
every  quarter  of  Germany  voices  were  heard  that  accused  him 
as  the  author  of  it.  Some  of  the  bitterest  feelings  he  had 
ever  known  oppressed  his  spirit  at  this  juncture,  and  his  trial 
was  of  a  different  kind.  Was  this  then,  he  asked  himself,  to 
be  the  issue  of  the  great  work  of  Reformation?  Impossible! 
he  utterly  rejected  the  doubts  that  presented  themselves.  God 
has  begun  the  work — God  will  fulfil  it.  "  I  prostrate  myself 
in  deep  abasement  before  the  Eternal,"  said  he,  "  and  I  im- 
plore of  Him  that  His  name  may  rest  upon  this  work,  and 

*  Lutherutn  revocavimus  ex  heremo  suo  magnis  de  causis.  (Corp. 
Ref.  i.  p.  566.) 

t  Mochte  ich  ehe  zehn  Tode  leyden.  ( IVieder  Emser,  L.  0pp.  xviii. 
p.  C13.) 


64  HIS    TEST    OF    INSPIRATION. 

that  if  anything-  inipure  has  mingled  in  the  doing  of  it,  He 
will  remember  that  I  am  but  a  sinful  man."* 

The  letters  written  to  Luther,  conveying  reports  of  the  in- 
spiration of  the  pretended  prophets  and  their  exalted  commu- 
nion with  the  Lord,  did  not  occasion  him  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. He  well  knew  the  deep  struggles  and  prostrations  of 
the  spiritual  life  ^  at  Erfurth  and  at  Wittemberg,  he  had  had 
experience  of  the  mighty  power  of  God,  which  rendered  him 
but  little  disposed  to  credit  the  statement  that  God  had  ap- 
peared visibly,  and  discoursed  with  his  creature. 

"Ask  them,"  said  he,  in  writing  to  Melancthon,  "if  they 
have  known  those  spiritual  heavings,  those  pangs  of  God's 
new  creation,  those  deaths  and  hells,  which  accompany  a  real 
regeneration. t  And  if  they  speak  only  of  soft  and  tranquil 
impressions,  piety,  and  devotion,  as  they  phrase  it,  don't  be- 
lieve them  ;  «ot  even  though  they  should  assert  that  they  have 
been  caught  up  into  the  third  heaven  ?  In  order  that  Christ 
should  enter  into  his  glory,  it  behoved  him  to  pass  through 
the  suffering  of  death :  thus  the  believer  must  pass  through 
the  tribulation  of  his  sin  before  he  enters  into  his  Peace. 
Would  you  learn  when,  where,  and  how,  God  speaks  to  men  ? 
Listen  to  the  word.  '  As  a  lion  He  has  broken  all  my  bones, 
— I  am  cast  out  from  before  His  face,  and  my  life  is  brought 
down  to  the  gates  of  death.''  No,  no,  the  Divine  Majesty  (as- 
they  term  Him)  does  not  speak  face  to  face  with  man,  for 
'  no  man^  says  He,  '  can  see  my  face  and  live^  " 

But  his  firm  conviction  that  the  prophets  were  under  a  de- 
lusion did  but  aggravate  Luther's  grief  The  solemn  truth 
of  Salvation  by  Grace  seemed  to  have  quickly  lost  its  attrac- 
tion, and  men  were  turning  aside  after  fables.  He  began  to 
understand  that  the  work  was  not  so  easy  as  he  had  once 
fondly  thought.  He  stumbled  at  this  first  stone  placed  in  his 
path  by  the  fickleness  of  the  human  heart.  Grief  and  anxiety 
weighed  heavy  on  his  spirit.     He  desired,  though  at  the  haz- 

*  Ich  krieche  zu  seiner  Gnaden.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  615.) 
t  Cluaeras  num  experti  sint  spirituales  illas  angustias  et  nativitate^ 
divinas,  mortes  infernosque.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  2l5.) 


EDICT    OF    THE    DIET.  65 

ard  of  his  life,  to  remove  the  stumbling-block  out  of  the  way 
of  the  people,  and  he  resolved  to  return  to  Wittemberg. 

It  was  a  moment  of  considerable  danger.  The  enemies  of 
the  Reformation  thought  themselves  on  the  very  eve  of  de- 
stroying it.  George  of  Saxony,  who  would  neither  connect 
himself  with  Rome  nor  with  Wittemberg,  had  written,  as 
early  as  the  15th  October,  1521,  to  Duke  John,  the  Elector's 
brother,  to  induce  him  to  side  with  those  who  opposed  the 
progress  of  the  Reformation.  "  Some,"  wrote  he,  "  deny  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  others,  and  those  friars  too  !  drag  the 
relics  of  St.  Anthony  through  the  streets,  and  throw  them  into 
the  gutters.*  All  this  comes  of  Luther's  teaching.  Entreat 
your  brother  either  to  make  a  public  example  of  the  impious 
authors  of  these  disorders,  or,  at  least,  publicly  to  declare  his 
opinion  of  them.  Our  grey  hairs  warn  us  that  we  are  near 
the  end  of  our  course,  and  that  we  ought  speedily  to  put  an 
end  to  such  evils." 

After  this,  George  took  his  departure  to  be  present  at  the 
sittings  of  the  Imperial  Government  at  Nuremberg.  On  ar- 
riving, he  used  every  means  to  procure  the  adoption  of  severe 
measures.  The  result  was  that,  on  the  21st  of  January,  the 
Diet  published  an  edict,  in  which  they  complained  bitterly 
that  the  priests  were  accustomed  to  say  mass  without  being 
habited  in  priest's  garments, — that  they  pronounced  the  words 
of  consecration  in  German, — administered  it  to  such  as  had 
not  confessed  themselves, — passed  it  into  the  hands  of  laymen, 
without  even  troubling  themselves  to  ascertain  whether  the 
communicant  came  to  it  fasting. f 

The  Imperial  Government  directed  the  Bishops,  accord- 
ingly, to  look  after  and  punish  severely  the  innovators  within 
their  respective  dioceses  :  and  the  Bishops  were  not  slow  in 
following  these  directions. 

It  was  just  at  this  moment  that  Luther  decided  to  appear 
again  upon  the  stage.     He  clearly  saw  the  critical  position  of 

*  Mit  Sch\»'einen  und  Schellen  ....  in  Koth  geworfen.  (Weyn. 
Ann  Seek.  p.  482.) 

t  In  ihre  laische  Hande  reiche.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  285.) 
6* 


66  LUTHER    LEAVES    THE    WARTBURG. 

affairs,  and  foreboded  wide-spreading  calamity.  "  A  time  of 
trouble,"  said  he,  "  is  coming  upon  the  empire  which  wili 
sweep  before  it  princes,  magistrates,  and  bishops.  People's 
eyes  are  opened  ;  they  cannot  be  driven  by  main  force  ;  Ger- 
many will  be  deluged  with  blood.*  Let  us  take  our  stand  as 
a  wall  of  defence  to  our  country  in  the  day  of  God's  anger." 

So  thought  Luther :  but  he  perceived  a  danger  yet  more 
imminent.  At  Wittemberg,  the  fire,  inslead  of  expiring,  was 
burning  every  day  more  fiercely.  From  the  summits  of  the 
Wartburg,  Luther  might  discern  in  the  horizon  the  lurid 
glare  that  gives  notice  of  devastation  flashing  at  intervals 
through  the  gloom.  Who  but  himself  can  apply  a  remedy 
in  the  crisis  ?  What  should  prevent  his  throwing  himself  into 
the  heal  of  th«  coaflagration,  and  exerting  his  influence  to  ar- 
rest its  progress  ?  He  foresees  his  enemies  preparing  to  strike 
him  down,  but  his  purpose  is  not  shaken.  Nor  is  he  deterred 
by  the  Elector's  entreaty  that  he  would  keep  v/ithin  the  Wart- 
burg, and  there  quietly  prepare  his  justification  at  the  ap- 
proaching Diet.  A  more  urgent  necessity  is  pressing  upon 
his  soul ;  and  it  is  to  justify  the  Gospel  itself.  "The  news: 
from  Wittemberg,"  w^rote  he,  "  is  every  day  becoming  more 
alarming.  I  am  on  the  point  of  setting  out.  That  state  of 
things  absolutely  requires  it."t 

Accordingly,  on  the  3d  of  March,  he  finally  decided  on 
leaving  the  Wartburg.  He  bade  farewell  to  its  grey  turrets 
and  gloomy  forests.  He  passed  beyond  those  walls,  within 
which  the  anathemas  of  Leo  and  the  sword  of  Charles  were 
alike  powerless.  He  trod  the  path  that  wound  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountain.  The  world  which  lay  srreiched  before  him, 
and  on  which  he  was  once  more  about  to  appear,  would  soon 
perhaps  ring  with  the  clamours  of  those  who  sought  his  life. 
It  matters  not.  On  he  goes  rejoicing  ;  for  it  is  in  the  r^ame  of 
the  Lord  that  he  is  bending  his  steps  towards  the  haunts  of  men  J 

♦  Germaniam  in  sanguine  natare.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  157.) 
t  Ita  enim  res  postulat  ipsa.     (Ibid.  p.  135.) 

}  So  machte  er  sich  mit  unglaublicher  Freudigk^t  des  Geistes,  ini 
Nahmen  Gottes  auf  den  Weg.     (Seek.  p.  458.) 


THE    PRIMITIVE    CHURCH.  67 

Time  had  been  busy.  Luther  was  leaving-  the  Wartburgf 
for  another  cause  and  in  a  different  character  from  that  in 
which  he  had  first  entered  it.  He  had  arrived  there  as  one 
who  had  attacked  the  received  tradition,  and  its  established 
teachers.  He  was  quilting  it  for  the  defence  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  Apostles  against  a  new  class  of  adversaries.  He  had 
entered  the  Wartburg  as  an  innovator  who  had  assailed  the 
ancient  hierarchy, — he  was  leaving  it  in  the  spirit  of  a  con- 
servator, that  he  might  defend  the  faith  of  Christians.  Until 
this  period,  Luther  had  seen  in  the  success  of  his  efforts  but 
the  triumph  of  the  great  truth  of  Justification  by  Faith;  and, 
armed  with  this  single  weapon,  he  had  beat  down  long  stand- 
ing superstitions.  But  if  there  had  been  a  time  for  removing 
that  which  had  encumbered  the  soil,  a  season  must  needs 
come  for  building  up.  Hidden  under  the  ruins  with  which 
his  assaults  had  strewed  the  plain,  behind  discredited  letters  of 
indulgence,  broken  tiaras  and  trampled  cowls,  beneath  the 
many  Romish  errors  and  corruptions  that  his  mind  surveyed 
as  the  slain  upon  a  battle-field,  he  discerned  and  brought  forth 
to  light  the  primitive  Catholic  Church,  re-appearing  still  the 
same,  and,  as  it  were,  emerging  from  a  protracted  struggle, 
with  unchangeable  doctrine  and  heavenly  accents.  He  could 
appreciate  the  vast  difference  between  Rome  and  that  true 
Church  which  he  hailed  and  embraced  with  joy.  Luther 
wrought  no  new  thing  on  the  earth,  as  has  been  falsely 
charged  upon  him;  he  did  not  build  for  his  own  age  an  edi- 
jfice  that  had  no  associations  with  the  past;  he  discerned  and 
let  in  the  light  upon  those  earlier  foundations  which  were 
then  overrun  with  thorns  and  brambles;  while  he  persevered 
in  reconstructing  the  temple,  he  did  but  build  on  the  funda- 
mental truths  taught  by  the  Apostles.  Lutlier  was  aware  that 
the  ancient  and  primitive  Apostolic  Church  must,  on  one 
hand,  be  restored  and  opposed  to  that  papal  power  which  had 
so  long  oppressed  it, — and,  on  the  other  hand,  be  defended 
against  enthusiasts  and  unbelievers,  who  affected  to  disown  it, 
and  were  seeking  to  set  up  some  new  thing,  regardless  of  all 
that  God  had  done  in  past  ages.    Luther  was,  from  that  hour, 


68  TWO    SWISS    STUDENTS, 

no  longer  the  representative  of  a  single  great  truth — that  of 
Justification  by  Faith,  though,  to  the  last,  he  gave  to  it  the 
highest  place;  the  whole  iheology  of  Christianity  now  occu- 
pied his  thoughts; — and  while  he  believed  that,  in  its  essence, 
the  Church  is  the  Congregation  of  Saints,  he  was  careful  not 
to  despise  the  visible  Church,  and  he  therefore  recognised 
those  who  were  outwardly  called,  as  constituting,  in  a  certain 
sense,  the  kingdom  of  God.  Accordingly,  a  great  change 
took  place  in  Luthf^r,  and,  in  his  entrance  into  divine  truth, 
and  in  that  regenerative  process  which  God  was  carrying  on 
in  the  world.  The  hierarchy  of  Rome,  acting  upon  him, 
might  have  goaded  the  Reformer  to  one  extreme,  had  not  the 
sects,  which,  at  this  time,  lifted  their  heads  so  daringly, 
recalled  him  to  just  and  moderate  views.  His  residence  in 
the  Wartburg  divides  these  two  periods  of  the  history  of  the 
Reformation. 

Luther  rode  slowly  on  in  the  direction  of  Wittemberg.  It 
was  Shrove  Tuesday,  and  the  second  day  of  his  journey. 
Towards  evening,  a  terrific  storm  came  on,  and  the  roads 
were  flooded.  Two  young  Swiss,  who  were  travelling  the 
same  way,  were  hastening  for  shelter  to  the  city  of  Jena. 
They  had  studied  at  Bale,  and  were  attracted  to  Wittemberg 
by  the  renown  of  its  university.  Journeying  on  foot,  tired, 
and  wet  through,  John  Kessler,  of  Saint  Gall,  and  his  com- 
rade, quickened  their  steps.  The  town  was  in  all  the  bustle 
and  buffoonery  of  the  carnival — dances,  masquerades,  and 
tumultuous  feasting,  engrossed  the  thoughts  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  the  two  travellers,  on  arriving,  could  find  no  room  in  any 
of  the  inns.  After  a  while,  they  were  directed  to  the  Black 
Bear,  outside  tiie  city  gate.  Harassed  and  depressed,  they 
repaired  thither.  The  landlord  received  them  kindly.* 
Ashamed  of  their  appearance,  they  sat  down  near  the  open 
door  of  the  public  room,  unwilling  to  go  :^ui:'ther.     Seated  at 

*  See  the  narrative  of  Kessler,  with  its  details,  in  the  simple  lan- 
guage of  that  age,  in  Bernet,  Johann.  Kessler,  p.  27.  Hahnhard 
Erzahlungen,  iii.  p.  300,  and  Marheinecke  Gesch.  der  Ref.  ii.  p.  321, 
2d  edit. 


A    STRANGE    KNIGHT.  69 

one  of  the  tables,  was  a  solitary  man  in  the  habit  of  a  knight, 
his  head  covered  with  a  red  cap,  and  wearing  small  clothes, 
over  which  hung  down  the  skirts  of  his  doublet.  His  right 
hand  rested  on  the  pommel  of  his  sword ;  his  left  grasped  the 
hilt;  a  book  lay  open  before  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  read- 
ing attentively.*  At  the  noise  made  by  their  entrance,  the 
stranger  raised  his  head  and  saluted  them  courteously,  inviting 
them  to  approach  and  take  a  seat  with  him  at  the  table;  then 
offering  them  a  glass  of  beer,  he  said,  alluding  to  their  accent, 
"You  are  Swiss.  I  perceive  ;  but  from  which  of  the  Cantons?" 
— "From  St.  Gall." — "If  you  are  going  to  Wittemberg,  you 
will  there  meet  one  of  your  countrymen,  Doctor  Schuiff." 
Encouraged  by  so  much  affability,  they  enquired — "  Could 
you  kindly  inform  us  where  Marlin  Luther  now  is?" — "1 
know  for  certain,"  answered  the  knight,  "that  Luther  is  not 
at  Wittemberg,  but  probably  he  will  be  there  shortly.  Philip 
Melancthon  is  there.  If  you'll  be  advised  by  me,  apply 
yourselves  to  the  Greek  and  Hebrew,  that  you  may  under- 
stand the  Holy  Scriptures."  "  If  our  lives  are  spared," 
observed  one  of  the  Swiss,  "  we  will  not  return  without  seeing 
and  hearing  Doctor  Luther ;  it  is  for  that  purpose  we  have 
made  the  journey.  We  hear  he  wants  to  abolish  the  clergy 
and  the  mass,  and  as  our  parents  always  intended  to  bring 
us  up  to  the  church,  we  should  like  to  know  on  what  grounds 
he  is  acting."  The  knight  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then 
enquired,  "Where  have  you  been  studying  hitherto?" — "At 
Bale." — "  Is  Erasmus  still  there?  what  is  he  doing?"  They 
answered  his  questions;  and  a  pause  ensued.  The  two  Swiss 
knew  not  what  to  make  of  their  new  acquaintance.  "  How 
strange,"  thought  they,  "that  the  conversation  of  a  knight 
should  be  all  about  Schurff,  Melancthon,  and  Erasmus,  and 
the  advantage  of  knowing  Greek  and  Hebrew."  "  Tell  me, 
my  friends,"  said  the  stranger,  suddenly  breaking  silence, 
*'what  is  said  of  Luther  in  Switzerland?" — "Sir,"  replied 
Kessler,  "opinions  concerning  him  are  greatly  divided,  as  is 
the  case  every  where.  Some  extol  him,  and  others  pronounce 
*  In  einem  rothen  SchlopU,  in  blossen  Hosen  und  Wamras  .  .  (Ibid.) 


70  SUPPER    AT    THE    INN. 

him  an  abominable  heretic."—"  Aye,  aye,  the  priests,  no  doubt," 
remarked  the  stranger. 

The  knight's  cordiality  had  put  the  students  completely  at 
their  ease.  Their  curiosity  was  excited  to  know  what  book 
he  had  been  reading  when  they  came  in.  The  knight  had 
closed  the  volume.  Kessler's  comrade  ventured  to  take  it  up: 
what  was  his  surprise  at  finding  it  to  be  the  Hebrev/  Psalter, 
Laying  it  down,  he  said,  as  if  to  divert  attention  from  this 
freedom,  "  Gladly  Avould  I  give  my  little  finger  to  understand 
that  language." — "  You  v^rill  surely  have  your  wish,"  was  the 
stranger's  reply,  "if  you  will  take  the  pains  to  acquire  it." 

A  few  minutes  after,  the  landlord's  voice  was  heard  calling 
Kessler.  The  poor  Swiss  began  to  fear  something  was 
amiss ;  but  the  host  whispered,  "  I  hear  you  want  to  see 
Luther  ;  well,  it  is  he  who  is  seated  beside  you."  Kessler's 
first  thought  was  that  he  \vas  jesting.  "  You  surely  would 
not  deceive  me,"  snid  he.  "  It  is  he,  himself,"  replied  the 
landlord;  "but  don't  let  him  see  that  you  know  him." 
Kessler  made  no  ansAver;  but  returned  to  the  room,  and 
resumed  his  seat,  eager  to  communicate  the  information  to  his 
companion.  To  do  this  was  not  easy ;  at  last  he  leaned  for- 
ward, as  if  looking  towards  the  door,  and  stooping  close  to 
his  friend's  ear,  whispered, — "  The  landlord  says  it  is  Luther 
himself" — "Perhaps,"  returned  his  companion,  "he  said 
Hutten  ?" — "  Probably  so,"  said  Kessler,  "  I  may  have 
mistaken  the  one  name  for  the  other,  for  they  resemble  each 
other  in  sound." 

At  that  moment,  the  trampling  of  horses'  feet  vi^as  heard 
outside:  two  travelling  merchants,  asking  a  night's  lodging, 
entered  the  room,  laid  aside  their  spurs,  and  threw  off  their 
cloaks,  and  one  of  them  deposited  near  him  on  the  table,  an 
unbound  book,  which  attracted  the  knight's  notice.  "  What 
book  may  that  be?"  asked  he.  "  It  is  a  commentary  on  the 
Gospels  and  Epistles,  by  Doctor  Luther,"  was  the  traveller's 
answer ;  "  it  has  only  just  appeared." — "  I  shall  get  it  shortly," 
remarked  the  knight. 

Conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  landlord's  announcing 


LUTHER     ON    HIS    JOURNEY.  71 

that  supper  was  ready.  The  two  students,  not  wishing-  to 
incur  the  expense  of  a  meal  in  company  with  the  knight 
Ulric  Hutten,  and  two  thrivinor  merchants,  took  the  landlord 
aside,  and  asked  him  to  serve  them  with  something  apart. 
"  Come  along,  my  friends,"  said  the  innkeeper  of  the  Black 
Bear,  "sit  ye  down  beside  this  gentleman  ;  I  will  let  you  off 
easy." — "  Come,  come,"  said  the  knight,  "  I'll  pay  the  score:^' 

During  supper,  the  mysterious  stranger  made  many  striking 
and  instructive  remarks.  Both  merchants  and  students  list- 
ened in  silence,  more  attentive  to  his  words  than  to  the  dishes 
before  them.  In  the  course  of  conversation,  one  of  the  nier- 
chants  exclaimed,  "  Luther  must  be  either  an  angel  from 
heaven,  or  a  devil  from  hell!"  and  he  followed  up  his  excla- 
mation by  the  remark, — "  I  would  give  ten  florins  for  an 
opportunity  of  meeting  him,  and  confessing  to  him." 

Supper  being  over,  the  merchants  rose  from  their  seats; 
the  two  Swiss  remained  in  company  with  the  knight,  who, 
taking  up  a  large  glass  of  beer,  and  raising  it  to  his  lips,  said 
gravely,  after  the  custom  of  the  country, — "Swiss,  one  glass 
more,  for  thanks."  And  as  Kessler  was  about  to  take  the 
glass,  the  stranger,  replacing  it,  handed  him  one  filled  with 
wine : — "  You  are  not  used  to  beer,"  said  he. 

This  said,  he  rose  from  his  seat,  threw  over  his  shoulders 
a  military  cloak,  and  e.xtending  his  hand  to  the  students, 
said,  "  When  you  reach  Wittemberg,  salute  Doctor  Jerome 
Schurff  from  me." — "With  pleasure,"  replied  they;  "but 
whose  name  shall  we  give?" — "  Do  you  tell  him  only,  that 
he  who  is  coming  sends  him  greeting."  With  these  words 
he  departed  leaving  them  delighted  with  t-s  condescension 
and  kindness. 

Luther, — for  he  it  was, — continued  his  journey.  It  will  be 
remembered,  that  he  had  been  placed  under  ban  of  the  Em- 
pire: whoever  met  hitn  might  therefore  seize  his  person.  But 
in  that  critical  moment,  engaged  as  he  was,  in  an  enterprise 
replete  with  dangers,  he  was  calm  and  serene,  and  conversed 
cheerfully  with  those  whom  he  met  with  on  his  way. 

It  was  not  that  he  deceived  himself  as  to  immediate  results. 


72  LETTER    TO    THE    ELECTOR. 

He  saw  the  horizon  black  with  storms : — "  Satan,"  said  he, 
"  is  enraged ;  and  all  around  me  are  plotting  death  and  de- 
struction.* But  I  go  forward  to  throw  myself  in  the  way  of 
the  Emperor  and  the  Pope,  with  no  protector  but  God  above. 
Go  where  I  will,  every  man  is  at  perfect  liberty  to  put  me  to 
death  wherever  he  may  find  me.  Christ  is  Lord  of  all !  if 
it  be  His  will  that  my  life  should  be  taken,  even  so  let  it  be." 

That  same  day,  being  Ash  Wednesday,  Luther  arrived  at 
Borne,  a  small  town  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Leipsic.  He 
felt  that  it  became  him  to  acquaint  his  prince  with  the  bold  step 
he  was  about  to  take,  and  accordingly  wrote  as  follows,  from 
the  inn  at  which  he  had  alighted : 

"  Grace  and  peace  from  God,  our  Father,  and  from  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ !  Most  Serene  Elector,  Gracious  Prince. — 
the  reproach  brought  upon  the  Gospel  by  the  events  that  have 
taken  place  at  Wittemberg,  have  so  deeply  grieved  me,  that  I 
should  have  lost  all  hope,  were  I  not  assured  that  our  cause  is 
that  of  the  truth. 

*'  Your  Highness  knows  full  well, — or  if  not,  be  it  known 
to  you,  I  received  the  Gospel — not  from  man,  but  from  hea- 
ven,— by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  not  from  any  doubt 
as  to  the  truth,  that  I  formerly  requested  public  discussions ; 
I  did  so  in  humility,  and  in  the  hope  to  win  over  others.  But 
since  my  humility  is  taken  advantage  of  to  the  hindrance  of 
the  Gosppl,  my  conscience  urges  me,  at  this  time,  to  change 
my  course  of  action.  I  have  sufficiently  shown  my  defer- 
ence to  your  Highness,  in  withdrawing  from  the  public  gaze 
for  a  whole  year.  Satan  knows  that  it  was  not  from  coward- 
ice that  I  did  so.  I  would  have  entered  Worms,  though  there 
iiad  been  as  many  devils  in  the  town,  as  there  were  tiles  upon 
its  roofs.  Now  Duke  George,  whom  your  Highness  men- 
tions as  if  to  scare  me,  is  much  less  to  be  dreaded  than  a  single 
devil.  If  what  is  passing  at  Wittemberg  were  occurring  at 
Leipsic,  (the  Duke's  usual  place  of  residence,)  I  would  in- 
stantly mount  my  horse,  and  repair  thither,  even  though — 

*  Furit  Satanas ;  et  fremunt  vicini  undique,  nescio  quot  mortibus  et 
infernis,     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  153.) 


LETTER    TO    THE    ELECTOR.  73 

your  Highness  will,  I  trust,  pardon  the  expression — it  should 
rain  Dukes  George  for  nine  days  together,  and  every  one 
should  be  nine  times  as  fierce  as  he !  What  can  he  be  think- 
ing of  in  attacking  me  ?  Does  he  suppose  that  Christ,  my 
Lord,  is  a  man  of  straw  ?*  May  God  avert  from  him  the 
awful  judgment  that  hangs  over  him. 

"  Be  it  known  to  your  Highness,  that  I  am  repairing  to 
Wittemberg,  under  a  protection  more  powerful  than  that  of 
an  Elector.  I  have  no  thought  of  soliciting  the  aid  of  your 
Highness;  and  am  so  far  from  desiring  ^/oz^r  protection,  that 
it  is  rather  my  purpose  to  protect  your  Highness.  If  I  knew 
that  your  Highness  could  or  would  take  up  my  defence,  I 
would  not  come  to  Wittemberg.  No  secular  sword  can  ad- 
vance this  cause :  God  must  do  all,  without  the  aid  or  co- 
operation of  man.  He  who  has  most  faith,  is  the  most  avail- 
ing defence ;  but,  as  it  seems  to  me,  your  Highness  is  as  yet 
very  weak  in  faith. 

"But  since  your  Highness  desires  to  know  what  to  do,  I 
will  humbly  answer:  Your  Electoral  Highness  has  already 
done  too  viuch^  and  should  do  nothing  whatever ;  God  neither 
wants  nor  will  endure  that  you  or  I  should  take  thought  or 
part  in  the  matter.     Let  your  Highness  follow  this  advice. 

"  In  regard  to  myself,  your  Highness  must  remember  your 
duty  as  Elector,  and  allow  the  instructions  of  his  Imperial 
Majesty  to  be  cariied  into  effect  in  your  towns  and  districts, 
offering  no  impediment  to  any  who  would  seize  or  kill  me;t 
for  none  may  contend  against  the  powers  that  be,  save  only 
He  who  has  ordained  them, 

"  Let  your  Highness  accordingly  leave  the  gates  open,  and 
respect  safe-conducts,  if  my  enemies  in  person,  or  by  their  en- 
voys, should  con;  '  to  search  for  me  in  your  Highness's  states. 
Every  thing  may  take  its  course,  without  trouble  or  prejudice 
to  your  Highness. 

♦  Er  halt  meinen  Herrn  Christum  fur  ein  Mann  aus  Stroh  go- 
flochten.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  139.) 

t  Und  ja  nicht  wehren  ...  so  sie  mich  fahen  Oder  todten  vrilh 
(L.  Epp.  p.  140.) 

VOL.    III.  7 


74  RECEPTION    AT    WITTEMBERG. 

"  I  write  this  in  haste,  that  you  may  not  feel  aggrieved  by 
my  coming.  My  business  is  with  another  kind  of  person 
from  Duke  George,  one  who  knows  me,  and  lohom  I  know 
well. 

"  Written  at  Borne,  at  the  inn  of  the  Guide,  on  Ash  Wed- 
nesday, 1522. 

"  Your  Electoral  Highness's 
"  Very  humble  servant, 

"Martin  Luther." 

In  this  way,  Luther  made  his  approach  to  Wittemberg : 
he  wrote  to  his  prince,  but  not,  as  we  have  seen,  to  excuse  the 
step  he  had  taken.  An  unshaken  confidence  animated  his 
heart.  He  saw  God's  hand  engaged  in  the  cause,  and  that 
sufficed  him.  The  heroism  of  faith  was  perhaps  never  more 
fully  acted  out.  In  one  of  the  editions  of  Luther's  works, 
we  read  opposite  this  letter,  the  remark — "  This  is  a  wonder- 
ful writing  of  the  third  and  latest  Elias."* 

It  was  on  Friday,  the  7th  of  March,  that  Luther  re-entered 
Wittemberg,  having  been  five  days  on  his  journey.  Doctors, 
students,  burghers,  broke  forth  in  rejoicings,  for  they  had  again 
among  them  the  pilot  who  could  best  extricate  the  vessel  from 
the  reefs  by  which  it  was  encompassed. 

The  Elector,  who  was  then  at  Lochau,  attended  by  his 
court,  was  much  affected  by  ihe  perusal  of  the  Reformer's  let- 
ter. In  his  desire  to  exculpate  him  before  the  Diet,  he  wrote 
to  Schurff! — "  Let  Luther  write  to  me,  explaining  his  reasons 
for  returning  to  Wittemberg,  and  introduce  the  statement  that 
he  came  without  my  consent."     Luther  complied. 

*'  Behold  me  ready  to  bear  your  Highness's  disapprobation, 
and  the  anger  of  the  whole  world.  Are  not  the  Wittem- 
bergers  my  own  sheep  ?  Has  not  God  committed  them  to 
my  care  ?  and  ought  I  not,  if  need  be,  to  lay  down  my  life  for 
them?  Besides,  I  dread  lest  we  should  see,  throughout  Ger- 
many, a  revolt  by  which  God  shall  punish  our  nation.  Let 
your  Highness  be  well  assured,  the  decrees  of  heaven  are  not 

t  Der  wahre,  dritte  und  lezte  Elias  .  .  .  (L.  Opp.  (L.)  xviii.  p.  271.) 


MEDITATIONS.  75 

like  those  of  Nuremberg."*  This  letter  was  written  on  the 
same  day  that  Luther  reached  Wittemberg. 

The  following  day,  being  Easter  Eve,  Luther  visited  Je- 
rome Schuiffl  He  found  Melancthon,  Jonas,  AmsdorfT,  Au- 
gustin  Schuiff^  Jerome's  brother,  assembled.  Luther  put 
many  questions  to  them,  and  while  they  recounted  all  that  had 
taken  place  in  his  absence,  two  foreigners  entered  the  room. 
The  Swiss  drew  back  timidly,  on  finding  themselves  in  the 
midst  of  this  company  of  learned  Doctors  ;  but  they  soon  re- 
covered their  self-possession  when  they  saw  in  the  centre  of 
the  group,  the  knight  whom  they  had  met  at  the  Black  Bear. 
The  latter  advancing,  accosted  them  as  old  friends,  and  said, 
smiling,  as  he  pointed  to  one  of  the  company, — "  That  is 
Philip  Melancthon,  whom  I  mentioned  to  you."  The  two 
Swiss  spent  that  day  in  the  society  of  the  assembled  friends,  on 
the  strength  of  the  meeting  at  Jena. 

•  One  absorbing  thought  engrossed  the  Reformer's  mind,  and 
damped  the  pleasure  he  would  otherwise  have  felt  at  finding 
himself  once  more  surrounded  by  his  friends.  Doubtless,  the 
stage  on  which  he  had  chosen  to  appear  was  an  obscure  one. 
He  was  about  to  raise  his  voice  in  a  petty  town  of  Saxony ; 
and  yet  his  object  was,  in  reality,  so  important,  as  to  influence 
the  destinies  of  the  world,  and  be  felt  in  its  effects  by  many 
nations  and  people.  The  question  to  be  decided  was, — whether 
the  teaching  which  he  had  derived  from  God's  Word,  and 
which  was  destined  to  produce  so  mighty  an  effect,  would,  in 
the  trial,  prove  stronger  than  those  disorganizing  principles 
which  threatened  its  extinction.  It  was  now  to  be  seen  whether 
it  was  possible  to  reform  without  destroying, — to  open  a  way 
to  new  developments  without  losing  such  as  had  already  been 
evolved.  To  reduce  to  silence  fanatics  in  the  energy  of  the 
first  bursts  of  enthusiasm, — to  arrest  the  headlong  course  of  a 
thoughtless  multitude, — to  calm  their  spirits,  and  restore  order, 
peace,  and  reason, — ^to  break  the  force  of  the  torrent  that  beat 
against  the  as  yet  unsettled  edifice  of  the  Reformation, — such 

*  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  143.  Luther  altered  this  expression  at  the  Elector's 
request. 


76  LUTHER    PREACHES. 

was  the  object  of  Luther's  return  to  Wittembergf.  But  would 
his  influence  accomplish  all  this  ?     Time  must  show. 

The  Reformer's  heart  thrilled  at  the  thought  of  the  struggle 
he  was  about  to  enter  upon.  He  raised  his  head,  as  the  lion 
shakes  his  brindled  mane  when  roused  to  the  fight.  "  The 
hour,"  said  he,  "  is  arrived,  when  we  must  trample  under  foot 
the  power  of  Satan,  and  contend  against  the  spirit  of  darkness. 
If  our  adversaries  do  not  flee  from  us; — Christ  will  know 
how  to  compel  them.  We  who  put  our  trust  in  the  Lord  of 
life  and  death,  are  lords  both  of  life  and  of  death  !"* 

But  at  the  same  time  the  impetuous  Reformer,  as  if  re- 
strained by  a  higher  power,  refused  to  employ  the  anathemas 
and  thunders  of  the  Word,  and  set  about  his  work  in  the 
spirit  of  an  humble  pastor — a  tender  shepherd  of  souls.  "  It 
is  with  the  Word  we  must  contend,"  observed  he,  "  and  by 
the  Word  we  must  refute  and  expel  what  has  gained  a  foot- 
ing by  violence.  I  would  not  resort  to  force  against  such  as 
are  superstitious; — nor  even  against  unbelieveis!  Whoso- 
ever believeth  let  him  draw  nigh,  and  whoso  believeth  not, 
stand  afar  oK  Let  there  be  no  compulsion.  Liberty  is  of 
the  very  essence  of  Faith. "f 

The  next  day  was  Sunday.  That  day  the  Doctor,  whom 
the  lofty  walls  of  the  Wartburg  had  for  nearly  a  year  hidden 
from  the  public  eye,  is  to  appear  in  the  pulpit  of  the  church 
of  Wittemberg.  "  Luther  is  come  back."  "  Luther  is  to. 
preach  to-day."  The  news,  repeated  from  one  to  another,  had 
of  itself  no  slight  eflect  in  giving  a  turn  to  the  thoughts  by 
which  the  multitude  were  deluded.  People  hurried  to  and 
fro  in  all  directions;  and  on  Sunday  morning  the  church  was 
filled  to  overflow  with  an  attentive  and  impressed  congrega- 
tion. 

Luther  could  comprehend  the  disposition  of  his  hearers' 
minds.  He  ascended  the  pulpit.  Behold  him  surrounded  by 
the  flock  which  had  formerly  followed  him  with  one  heart  as 

*  Domini  enim  sumus  vitae  et  mortis.     (L.  T^pp.  ii.  p.  150.) 
+  Non  enim  ail  fidem  et  ad  ea  quae  fidei  sunt,  uUus  cogendus  est.  .  . . 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  151.)    . 


FAITH    AND    LOVE.  77 

a  docile  sheep,  but  which  has  broken  from  him  in  the  spirit 
of  an  untamed  heifer.  His  address  was  simple  and  noble, — 
energetic  and  persuasive; — breatliing-  the  spirit  of  a  tender 
father  returning  to  his  child  re  n,  and  enquiring  into  their  con- 
duct, while  he  communicates  the  reports  that  have  reached 
him  concerning  them.  He  frankly  commended  their  progress 
in  the  faith,  and  having  thus  prepared  and  gathered  up  their 
thoughts,  he  proceeded  as  follows : — 

"  But  we  need  a  something  beyond  Faith  ;  and  that  is  Love. 
If  a  man  who  carries  a  sword  is  alone,  it  matters  not  whether 
he  draw  it  or  keep  it  snenthed  ;  but  if  he  is  in  a  crowd  let  him 
have  a  care  lest  he  wound  any  of  those  about  him. 

"  Observe  a  mother  with  her  babe.  She  first  gives  it 
nothing  but  milk  ;  and  then  the  most  easily  digestible  food. 
What  would  be  the  consequence  were  she  to  begin  by  giving 
it  meat  or  wine  ? 

"  In  like  manner  should  we  act  toward  our  brother. — Have 
3'ou  been  long  at  the  breast  ? — If  so,  well ; — only  let  your 
brother  suck  as  long ! 

"Observe  the  Sun.  He  dispenses  two  gifts. — namely — 
light  and  warmth.  The  mightiest  monarch  cannot  turn  aside 
his  rays: — they  come  straight  on,  arriving  upon  this  earth  by 
a  direct  course.  Meanwhile  his  warmth  goes  out  and  diffuses 
itself  in  every  direction.  So  it  is  that  Faith,  like  light,  should 
ever  be  simple  and  unbending; — whilst  Love,  like  warmth, 
should  beam  forth  on  all  sides,  and  bend  to  every  necessity  of 
our  brethren." 

Having  thus  engaged  his  hearers'  attention,  he  proceeded 
to  press  them  more  closely : 

"  It  is  agreeable  to  Scripture,  say  you,  to  abolish  the  Mass. 
Be  it  so.  But  what  order,  what  decency  have  you  observed? 
It  became  you  to  offer  up  earnest  prayers  to  God;  to  apply  to 
the  authorities;  then,  indeed,  every  one  might  have  acknow- 
le<iged  that  the  thing  was  of  the  Lord." 

Thus  spake  Luther,  The  fearless  man  who,  at  Worms, 
had  stood  forth  against  the  princes  of  this  world,  made  a  deep 
impression  on  men's  minds  by  these  accents  of  wisdom  and 

7* 


78 

peace.  Carlstadt  and  the  prophets  of  Zwickau,  from  being^ 
extolled  and  all-poweiful  for  a  few  weeks,  and  ruling  to  the 
disturbance  of  the  public  peace,  had  shrunk  into  insignificance 
beside  the  prisoner  escaped  from  the  Wartburg. 

"The  Mass,"  he  continued,  "is  a  bad  thing.  God  is 
opposed  to  it.  It  ought  to  be  abolished,  and  I  would  that 
every  where  the  Supper  of  the  Gospel  were  established  in  its 
stead.  But  let  none  be  torn  from  it  by  force.  We  must  leave 
results  to  God.  It  is  not  we  that  must  work, — but  His  Word. 
And  why  so?  you  will  ask.  Because  the  hearts  of  men  are 
•not  in  my  hand  as  clay  in  the  hand  of  the  potter.  We  have 
a  right  to  speak,  but  none  whatever  to  compel.  Let  us 
preach ; — the  rest  belongs  to  God.  If  I  resort  to  force,  what 
frhall  I  gain?  Grimace,  fair  appearances,  apeings,  cramped 
uniformity,  and  hypocrisy.  But  there  will  be  no  hearty 
sincerity, — no  faith, — no  love.  Where  these  are  wanting, — all 
is  wanting;  and  I  would  not  give  a  straw  for  such  a  victory!* 

"Our  first  aim  must  be  to  win  the  heart;  and  to  this  end 
we  must  preach  the  Gospel.  Then  we  shall  find  the  Word 
impressing  one  to-day,  another  the  next  day ;  and  the  result 
will  be,  that  each  one  will  withdraw  from  the  Mass,  and 
cease  to  receive  it.  God  does  more  by  the  simpler  power  of 
His  word  than  you  and  I  and  the  whole  world  could  efTect  by 
all  our  efforts  put  together  !  God  arrests  the  heart,  and  that 
once  taken, — all  is  v/on  ! 

"  I  say  not  this  that  you  should  restore  the  Mass.  Since  it 
is  done  away  with,  in  God's  name,  let  it  not  be  revived.  But 
was  it  right  to  go  about  it  in  such  a  manner?  Paul,  coming 
one  day  to  the  famous  city  of  Athens,  found  there  the  altars 
of  such  as  were  no  gods.  He  passed  on  from  one  to  the  other, 
observing  them  without  touching  one  of  them ;  but  he  made 
his  way  to  the  market-place,  and  testified  to  the  people  that  all 
their  gods  were  nought  but  images,  graven  by  art  and  man's 
device.  And  that  preached  Word  took  possession  of  their 
hearts,  and  the  idols  fell,  without  his  so  much  as  touching  them! 

♦  Ich  vyollte  nicht  einen  Birnstiel  drauf  geben.  (L.  0pp.  (L.)  xviii. 
p.  S55.) 


LUTHER  ON  THE  LORd's  SUPPER.  79 

"  I  am  ready  to  preach,  argue,  write, — but  I  will  not  con' 
strain  anyone:  for  faith  is  a  voluntary  act.  Call  to  mind 
what  I  have  already  done  I  stood  up  against  Pope,  indul- 
gences, and  Papists ;  but  without  violence  or  tumult.  I 
brought  forward  God's  Word;  I  preached  and  wrote,  and 
there  1  stopped.  And  whilst  I  laid  me  down  and  slept,  or 
chatted  with  Amsdorff  and  Melancthon  over  our  tankard  of 
Wittemberg  beer,  the  word  I  had  preached  brought  down  the 
power  of  the  Pope  to  the  ground,  so  that  never  prince  or 
emperor  had  dealt  it  such  a  blow.  For  my  part,  I  did  next 
to  nothing:  the  power  of  the  Word  did  the  whole  business. 
Had  1  appealed  to  force,  Germany  might  have  been  deluged 
with  blood.  But  what  would  have  been  the  consequence? 
Ruin  and  destruction  of  soul  and  body.  Accordingly,  I  kept 
quiet,  and  let  the  Word  run  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land.  Know  you  what  the  devil  thinks  when  he  sees 
men  resort  to  violence  to  spread  the  Gospel  through  the  world? 
Seated  behind  the  fire  of  hell,  and  folding  his  arms,  with 
malignant  glance  and  horrid  leer,  Satan  says,  '  How  good  it 
is  in  yonder  madmen  to  play  into  my  hands.'  But  only  let 
him  see  the  Word  of  the  Lord  circulating,  and  working  its 
way  unaided  on  the  field  of  the  world,  and  at  once  he  is  dis- 
turbed at  his  work,  his  knees  smite  each  other,  he  trembles, 
and  is  ready  to  die  with  fear." 

On  the  Tuesday  following,  Luther  again  ascended  the 
pulpit,  and  his  powerful  exhortation  was  once  more  heard,  in 
the  midst  of  an  attentive  audience.  He  preached  again  on 
Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  Saturday,  and  Sunday.  He 
took  a  review  of  the  destruction  of  images,  the  distinction  of 
meats,  the  institution  of  the  Supper,  the  restoration  of  the  cup 
to  the  laity,  and  the  abolition  of  the  confessional.  He  showed 
that  these  points  were  of  much  less  consequence  than  the 
Mass,  and  that  the  prime  movers  of  the  disorders  of  which 
Wittemberg  had  been  the  scene,  had  grossly  abused  their 
liberty.  He  passed  by  turns  from  accents  of  true  Christian 
charity  to  bursts  of  holy  indignation. 

He  especially  declared  himself  against  those  who  ventured 


80 

lightly  |o  partake  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord.  "  It  is  not  the 
mere  pressing  with  the  teeth^^  said  he,  "  it  is  the  inward  and 
spiritual  partaking  realized  by  faith  which  makes  us  Chris- 
tians, and  without  which  all  outward  acts  are  but  show  and 
grimace.  But  that  faiih  consists  in  the  firm  belief  that  Jesus 
is  the  Son  of  God ;  that  having  himself  borne  our  sins  and 
our  iniquities  on  the  cross,  he  is,  himself,  the  alone  and  all- 
sufficient  expiation ;  that  he  now  appears  continually  in  the 
presence  of  God,  reconciling  us  to  the  Father  ;  and  has  given 
to  us  the  sacrament  of  his  body  for  the  strengthening  of  our 
faith  in  this  unspeakable  mercy.  Only  let  me  believe  this, 
and  God  is  my  defence;  with  Him  for  my  buckler  I  defy  sin, 
death,  hell,  and  devils:  they  cannot  harm  me,  nor  even  so 
much  as  ruffle  a  hair  of  my  head!  That  spiritual  bread  is 
comfort  to  the  afflicted,  health  to  the  sick,  life  to  the  dying, 
food  to  the  hungry,  and  a  treasury  for  the  poor!  The  man 
who  does  not  feel  the  burthen  of  his  sins,  ought,  therefore^  to 
abstain  from  approaching  the  altar.  What  can  he  have  to  ^o 
there?  Ah  !  let  conscience  be  heard;  let  our  hearts  be  broken 
with  the  sense  of  our  sins,  and  we  shall  not  come  to  that  holy 
sacrament  in  a  spirit  of  presumption." 

Crowds  continually  filled  the  church ;  many  came  even 
from  the  neighbouring  towns  and  villages  to  hear  this  new 
Elijah.  Among  others  Capito  passed  two  days  at  Wittem- 
berg,  and  heard  the  doctor  preach  twice.  Never  before  had 
Luther  and  the  cardinal's  chaplain  been  so  entirely  agreed. 
Melancthon,  magistrates,  proft  ssors,  and  the  whole  population 
were  overjoyed.*  ►^<:hu.rff,  delighted  with  such  a  termination 
of  so  unpromising  a  state  of  things,  hastened  to  communicate 
the  intelligence  to  the  Elector.  He  wrote  to  him  on  Friday, 
the  15th  of  March,  after  hearing  Luther's  sixth  discourse. 
"  Oh,  what  joy  has  Doctor  Martin's  reappearance  diffused 
among  us!  His  words,  through  divine  mercy,  every  day 
bring  back  into  the  way  of  truth  our  poor  deluded  people.    It 

*  Grosse  Freude  und  Frohlocken  unter  Gelahrten  und  Ungelahrten. 
(L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  266.) 


Luther's  moderation  and  courage.  81 

is  manifest  that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  with  him,  and  that  his 
coming  to  Wittemberg  is  by  His  special  providence."* 

In  truth  these  sermons  are  models  of  popular  eloquence ; 
but  not  such  as,  in  the  days  of  Demosthenes,  or  even  in  those 
of  Savonarola,  had  led  captive  the  hearts  of  the  people.  The 
task  of  the  preacher  of  Wittemberg  was  one  of  greater  diffi- 
culty. It  is  far  easier  to  rouse  the  fury  of  a  wild  beast  than 
to  charm  it  down.  What  was  needed  to  soothe  a  fanatic 
multitude,  and  to  tame  unruly  passions;  and  in  this  Luther 
succeeded.  In  his  first  eight  sermons,  he  allowed  not  a  word 
to  escape  him  against  the  originators  of  these  disorders;  no 
allusion  likely  to  give  pain, — not  so  much  as  a  word  by 
which  their  feelings  could  be  wounded.  But  his  moderation 
was  his  strength  ;  and  the  more  tenderly  he  dealt  with  the 
souls  that  had  gone  astray,  the  more  perfectly  did  he  vindicate 
that  truth  that  was  aggrieved.  There  was  no  withstanding 
the  power  of  his  eloquence.  Men  usually  ascribe  to  timidity 
and  cowardly  compromise,  exhortations  that  inculcate  modera- 
tion. Here,  how  different  was  the  case !  In  publicly  stand- 
ing forth  before  the  inhabitants  of  Wittemberg,  Luther  braved 
the  Pope's  excommunication  and  the  Emperor's  proscription. 
He  re-appeared,  notwithstanding  the  Elector's  prohibition, 
who  had  mtimated  that  he  could  not  protect  him.  Even  at 
Worms  his  courage  had  not  been  so  signally  proved.  He 
was  exposing  himself  to  the  most  imminent  dangers ;  and 
hence  his  call  was  responded  to.  The  man  who  braved  the 
scaffold,  might  claim  to  be  listened  to  when  he  inculcated 
submission.  None  better  qualified  to  urge  on  his  hearers  the 
duty  of  obedience  to  God,  than  he  who,  in  order  that  he  might 
himself  render  such  obedience,  defied  the  most  violent  perse- 
cution of  man.  At  Luther's  appeal  difficulties  disappeared — 
tumult  subsided — sedition  was  silenced,  and  the  burghers  of 
Wittemberg  returned  quietly  to  their  dwellings. 

Gabriel  Didymus  who,  of  all  the  Augustine  monks,  had 
manifested  most  enthusiasm,  hung  upon  the  Reformer's  words. 
"  Don't  you  think  Luther  a  wonderful  teacher?"  inquired  one 
♦^Aus  sonderlicher  Schickung  des  Allmachtigen  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 


S2 


GABRIEL    AND    CARLSTADT. 


of  his  hearers,  who  was  himself  deeply  affected.  "Ah!" 
replied  he,  "  1  seem  to  be  listening  to  the  voice  of  an  angel 
rather  than  a  man."*  Didymus,  soon  after  this,  publicly 
confessed  he  had  been  deceived.  "  He  is  quite  a  changed 
man,"  said  Luther,  f 

It  was  not  so  at  first  with  Carlstadt.  Abandoning  his 
studies,  and  frequenting  the  workshops  of  artisans,  that  he  might 
there  receive  the  true  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures,  he  was 
mortified  at  beholding  his  party  losing  ground  on  the  le-ap- 
pearance  of  Luther.t  in  his  view  it  was  arresting  the  Refor- 
mation in  the  miJsc  of  its  career.  Hence,  his  countenance 
wore  a  constant  air  of  dejection,  sadness,  and  aissatisfaction. 
Nevertheless,  he  sacrificed  his  selflove  for  the  sake  of  peace, 
restrained  his  desire  to  vindicate  his  doctrine,  was  reconciled, 
at  least  in  appearance,  to  his  colleague,  and  soon  after  resumed 
his  studies  in  the  university.*^ 

The  most  noted  of  the  prophets  were  not  at  Wittemberg 
when  Luther  arrived  there.  Nicolas  Storch  was  on  a  pro- 
gress through  the  country.  Mark  Stubner  had  quitted  the 
hospitable  roof  of  Melancthon.  Perhaps  their  spirit  of  pro- 
phecy had  left  them  without  "voice  or  answer," ||  from  the 
first  tidings  brought  them  that  the  new  Elijah  was  turning  his 
steps  toward  their  Mount  Carmel.  Cellarius,  the  old  school- 
master, alone  remained.  Meanwhile,  Stubner,  hearing  that 
his  sheep  were  scattered,  returned  in  haste  to  Wittemberg. 
Those  who  had  remained  faithful  to  "the  heavenly  prophecy" 
gathered  round  their  master,  repeated  the  substance  of  Luther's 
sermons,  and  pressed  him  with  anxious  enquiries  as  to  what 
they  ought  to  think  and  do.l^  Stubner  exhorted  them  to  stand 
firm.     "  Let  him  come  forth,"  interposed  Cellarius ;  "  let  him 

*  Imo,    inquit,    angeli,    non  hominis   vocem  mihi    audisse   videor. 

(Camerarius,  p.  12.) 

t  In  alium  virum  mutatus  est.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  156.) 

i  Ego  Carlstadium  offendi,  quod  ordinationes  suas  cessavi.     (L.  Epp. 

ii.  p.  177.) 

§  Philippi  et  Carlstadii  lectiones,  ut  sunt  optimae  .  .  (Ibid.  p.  284.) 
II  1  King.s  xviii.  ^ 

IT  Rursum  ad  ipsum  confluere  .  .  .  (Camerar.  p.  52.) 


STUBNER    AND    CELLARIUS.  83 

give  US  the  meeting;  let  him  onl}^  afToid  us  opportunity  to 
declare  our  doctrine,  and  then  we  shall  see  .  .  .  ." 

Luther  had  but  liitle  wish  to  meet  them.  He  knew  them 
to  be  men  of  violent,  hasty,  and  haughty  temper,  who  would 
not  endure  even  kind  admonitions,  but  required  that  everyone 
should,  at  the  very  first  summons,  submit  to  them  as  to  a 
supreme  authority.*  Such  are  enthusiasts  in  every  age. 
Nevertheless,  as  an  interview  was  requested,  Luther  could  not 
decline  it.  Besides,  it  might  be  doing  service  to  the  weak  of 
the  flock  to  unmask  the  imposture  of  the  prophets.  Accord- 
ingly the  meeting  took  place.  Stubner  opened  the  conversa- 
tion. Fie  shovved  how  he  proposed  to  restore  the  Church  and 
reform  the  woild.  Luther  listened  to  him  with  great  calm- 
ness.! "Of  all  you  have  been  saying,"  replied  he,  at  last, 
gravely,  "there  is  nothing  that  I  see  to  be  based  upon  Scrip- 
ture. It  is  a  mere  tissue  of  fiction."  At  these  words  Cella- 
rius  lost  all  self-possession.  Raisin^g  his  voice  like  one  out  of 
his  mind,  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  striking  the  table 
with  his  fist,  in  a  violent  passion. J  exclaimed  against  Luther's 
speech  as  an  insult  offered  to  a  man  of  God.  On  this  Luther 
remarked,  "  Paul  declared  that  the  signs  of  an  apostle  were 
wrought  among  the  Corinthians,  in  signs  and  mighty  deeds. 
Do  you  likewise  prove  your  apostleship  by  miracles." — "We 
will  do  so,"  rejoined  the  prophets.*^  "The  God  whom  I 
serve,"  answered  Luther,  "will  know  how  to  bridle  your 
gods."  Stubner,  who  had  hitherto  preserved  an  imperturba- 
ble silence,  now  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  Reformer,  said,  in  a 
solemn  tone,  "Martin  Luther,  hear  me  while  I  declare  what 
is  passing  at  this  moment  in  your  soul.  You  are  beginning 
to  see  that  my  doctrir  is  true."  Luther  was  silent  for  a  few 
moments,  and  then  r  nli'd,  "The  Lord  rtbuke  thee,  Satan." 
Instantly  the  prophets  iost  all  self-command.     They  shouted 

*  Vehementer  superbus  et  impatiens  .  ,  .  credi  vult  plena  auctoritate, 
ad  primam  vocem  .  .  .  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  1'79.) 

t  Audivit  Lutherus  placide  .  .  .  (Gamer,  p.  52.) 

J  Cum  et  solum  pedibus  et  propositam  mensulam  manibus  feriret 
(Ibid.) 

§  Cluid  pollicentes  de  mirabilibus  aflectionibus.     (Ibid.  p.  53.) 


84  ORDER    RESTORED. 

aloud,  "  The  Spirit,  the  Spirit."  The  answer  of  Luther  was 
marked  by  the  cool  contempt  and  cutting  homeliness  of  his 
expressions:  "I  slap  your  spirit  on  the  snout!"*  said  he. 
Hereupon  their  outcries  redoubled.  Cellarius  was  more 
violent  than  the  rest.  He  stormed  till  he  foamed  at  the 
mouth, t — and  their  voices  Avere  inaudible  from  the  tumult. 
The  result  was  that  the  pretended  prophets  abandoned  the 
field,  and  that  very  day  they  left  Wittemberg. 

Thus  did  Luther  achieve  the  object  for  which  he  had  left 
his  retirement.  He  had  taken  his  stand  against  fanaticism, 
and  expelled  from  the  bosom  of  the  church  the  enthusiasm 
and  disorder  which  had  invaded  it.  If  the  Reformation  with 
one  hand  dashed  to  the  earth  the  dusty  decretals  of  Rome, 
with  the  other  it  put  away  from  it  the  pretensions  of  the  mys- 
tics, and  established  on  the  territory  it  had  acquired  the  living 
and  sure  Word  of  God.  The  character  of  the  Reformatioa 
was  thus  distinctly  seen.  Its  mission  was  to  keep  constantly  a 
middle  course  between  these  extremes,  remote  alike  from  fanati- 
cal distortions  and  from  the  death-like  slumber  of  the  papal  rule. 

Here  was  an  instance  of  a  whole  population  passionately 
excited,  and  misled  to  such  a  degree  as  to  have  cast  off  all 
restraint,  at  once  listening  to  reason,  recovering  calmness,  and 
returning  to  their  accustomed  submission,  so  that  the  most 
perfect  quiet  again  reigned  in  that  very  city  which,  but  a  few 
days  before,  had  been  like  the  troubled  ocean. 

The  most  absolute  liberty  was  forthwith  established  at  Wit- 
temberg. Luther  continued  to  reside  in  the  convent,  and  to 
wear  the  monastic  habit;  but  everj?"  one  was  free  to  lay  it 
aside.  In  coming  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  persons  might  either 
receive  only  the  general  absolution  or  they  might  apply  for 
a  special  one.  It  was  recognised  as  a  principle  to  reject  no- 
thing but  what  contradicted  a  clear  and  express  declaration  of 
Scripture.!     It  was  no  indifference  that  dictated  this  course. 

♦  Ihren  Geist  haue  er  iiber  die  Schnauze.  (L.  0pp.  Altenburg. 
Augs.  iii.  p.  13T) 

t  Spumabat  et  fremebat  et  furebat.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  179.) 
t  Ganz  klare  unci  grlindliche  Schrift. 


THE    NEW    TESTAMENT    PUBLISHED.  85 

On  the  contrary,  religion  was  recalled  to  its  essential  principle. 
Piety  only  withdrew  from  the  accessary  forms  in  which  it  had 
been  well  nigh  lost,  that  it  might  rest  on  its  true  basis.  Thus 
was  the  Reformation  itself  preserved,  and  the  church's  teaching 
progressively  developed  in  love  and  truth. 

No  sooner  was  order  re-established,  when  the  Reformer 
turned  to  his  beloved  Mtlancthon,  and  requested  his  co-opera- 
tion in  the  final  revision  of  the  translation  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, which  he  had  brought  with  him  frorn  the  Wartburg.* 
As  early  as  the  year  1519,  Melancthon  had  laid  down  the 
grand  principle  that  the  Fathers  must  be  explained  confoi'm- 
ably  to  the  Scripture,  and  not  Scripture  accoiding  to  the  Fa- 
thers. Meditating  daily  on  the  books  of  the  New  Testament, 
he  felt  at  once  charmed  by  their  siiTiplicity,  and  solemnly  im- 
pressed by  the  depth  of  their  import.  "  In  them,  and  them 
only,"  affirmed  this  adept  in  ancient  philosophy,  "do  we  find 
the  true  'food  of  the  soul.'  "  Gladly,  therefore,  did  he  com- 
ply with  Luther's  di^sire,  and  many  were  the  hours  the  two 
friends,  from  that  time,  spent  together,  studying  and  translating 
the  inspired  Word.  Often  would  they  pause  in  their  labours 
to  give  free  expression  to  their  wonder,  "  If  Reason  could 
speak,"  said  Luther,  "  it  would  say,  O,  that  I  could  once  hear 
the  voice  of  God !  I  should  think  it  worth  a  journey  to  the 
very  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  !  Give  ear,  then,  my  fellow- 
man — God,  the  creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  now  speaks  to 
thee!" 

The  printing  of  the  New  Testament  was  begun  and  carried 
on  with  an  activity  beyond  all  example.f  One  might  have 
thought  the  very  printers  felt  the  importance  of  the  work  in 
hand.  Three  presses  were  constantly  employed,  and  ten  thou- 
sand sheets  were  struck  off  every  day.* 

At  last,  on  the  2Ist  Sept.,  appeared  the  complete  edition  of 
three  thousand  copies  in   two  volumes,  with   the  brief  title, 

*  Verum  omnia  nunc  elimare  coepimus  Philippus  et  ego.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  176.) 

t  Iiigenti  labore  et  studio.     (L.  Epp.  p.  21'6.) 

X  Singulis  diebus  decies  millia  chartarum  sub  tribus  prelis  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 
VOL.    III.  8 


86  SCRIPTURE    AND    FAITH. 

"  The  New  Testament  in  German  ] — at  Wittemberg."  It  bore 
no  name  of  man.  From  that  hour  every  German  might  ob- 
tain the  Word  of  God  at  a  small  pecuniary  cost.* 

The  new  translation,  written  in  the  tone  of  the  sacred  books, 
in  a  language  that  was  as  yet  in  its  virgin  simplicity,  and  now 
first  opening  its  full  beauty,  interested  and  delighted  all  classes, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  It  was  a  national  work — the 
people's  book — nay,  much  more,  it  was  the  book  of  God. 
Even  enemies  could  not  withhold  their  commendation  of  this 
wonderful  production,  and  there  were  some  incautious  parti- 
sans of  the  Reformation  so  carried  away  by  the  beauty  of  the 
new  version,  as  to  imagine  they  could  recognize  in  it  a  second 
inspiration.  It,  indeed,  served  more  than  all  Luther's  own 
writings  to  diffuse  a  spirit  of  christian  piety.  The  great  work 
of  the  sixteenth  century  was  now  placed  on  a  rock  whence 
nothing  could  dislodge  it.  The  Bible,  restored  to  the  people, 
recalled  the  mind  of  man,  which  had  for  ages  wandered  in 
the  endless  labyrinths  of  scholastic  teaching,  to  the  heavenly 
springs  of  salvation.  Hence,  the  success  that  attended  this 
step  was  prodigious.  All  the  copies  were  quickly  disposed 
of  In  December  following,  a  second  edition  appeared;  and 
by  the  year  1533,  no  less  than  seventeen  ( dilions  had  issued 
from  the  presses  of  Wittemberg;  thirteen  from  Augsburg; 
twelve  from  Bale;  one  fiom  Erfurth;  one  from  Grimma; 
one  from  L-ips.c;  thiiteen  ftom  Strasburgf 

Even  while  the  first  edition  of  the  New  Testament  was 
passintj  thro'ugh  the  press,  Luther  was  already  at  work  on  a 
translation  of  the  Old  Testament.  This  labour,  begun  in  1522, 
was  continued  without  intermission.  He  issued  it  in  detached 
portions,  as  he  finished  them,  in  order  to  gratify  the  impa- 
tience of  the  public  demand,  and  to  make  the  purchase  easy  to 
the  poor. 

From  Scripture  and  Faith,  two  streams  issuing  from  one 
and  the  sa'  ,  spiing,  the  life  of  the  Gospel  has  flowed,  and 
still  diffuses  itself  through   the  world.      They  bore  directly 

*  A  florin  and  a  half,  about  a  half-crown. 
t  Gesch  d.  deutsch.  Bibrl  Uebersttz. 


THE    VISIONARY    PEN.  87 

against  two  established  errors.  Faith  was  met  by  the  oppo- 
sing Pelagian  tendency  of  Catholicism.  Scripture,  in  like 
manner,  found  arrayed  against  it  the  theory  of  tradition  and 
the  authority  of  Rome.  Scripture  led  its  reader  to  Faith,  and 
Faith  made  him  the  disciple  of  the  Word.  '•  Man  can  do  no 
meritorious  work :  the  free  grace  of  God,  received  through 
faith  in  Christ,  alone  saves  him."  Such  was  the  doctrine  pro- 
claimed throughout  Christendom.  But  this  teaching  must 
needs  bring  Christendom  to  the  study  of  the  Scripture.  In 
truth,  if  faith  in  Christ  is  everything  in  Christianity,  and  if 
the  observances  and  ordinances  of  the  Church  are  nothing,  it 
is  not  to  the  Church's  teaching,  but  to  Christ's  word  that  we 
must  adhere.  The  bond  that  unites  to  Christ  will  be  every- 
thing to  the  believing  soul.  What  signifies  the  outward  link 
that  connects  him  with  a  visible  church,  enslaved  by  the  com- 
mandments of  men?  .  .  Thus,  as  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible 
had  impelled  Lucher's  contemporaries  toward  Jesus  Christ, 
their  love  for  Jesus  Christ,  in  its  turn,  impelled  them  towards 
the  Bible.  It  was  not,  as  some  in  our  days  have  supposed, 
from  a  philosophic  necessity,  or  from  doubt,  or  a  spirit  of  in- 
quiry that  they  reverted  to  Scripture,  it  was  because  they  found 
thevd  the  words  of  Him  they  loved.  "  You  have  preached 
Christ,"  said  they  to  the  Reformer,  "  let  us  now  hear  him 
himself^  And  they  caught  at  the  sheets  given  to  the  world, 
as  a  letter  coming  to  them  from  heaven. 

But  if  the  Bible  was  thus  joyfully  welcomed  by  such  as 
loved  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  was  scornfully  rejected  by  such 
as  preferred  the  traditions  and  ordinances  of  men.  This  pub- 
lication by  Luther  was  the  signal  of  violent  persecution. 
Rome  trembled  at  the  report  brought  thither.  The  pen  which 
transcribed  the  sacred  oracles  was  in  truth  that  visionary  pen 
which  Fredeiic  had  beheld  in  his  dream,  reaching  to  the 
seven  hills,  and  discomposing  the  pope's  tiara.  The  monk  in 
his  cell,  the  prince  upon  his  throne,  uttered  a  cry  of  anfjer. 
The  ignorant  priests  were  disKr.yed  at  the  thought  that 
burghers,  and  even  rustics  would  {i'*w  be  able  freely  to  dis- 
cuss with  them  the  precepts  of  the  Lord.     The  king  of  Eng- 


88  PUBLICATION    OF    THE    NEW    TESTAMENT. 

land  denounced  the  work  to  the  Elector  Frederic  and  to  Duke 
George  of  Saxony.  But  before  this,  and  as  early  as  the  No- 
vember previous,  the  Duke  had  commanded  ail  his  subjects 
to  deliver  up  every  copy  of  Luther's  New  Testament  into  the 
hands  of  the  magistrate.  Bavaria,  Brandenburg,  Austria,  and 
all  the  states  in  the  interest  of  Rome  passed  similar  decrees. 
In  some  parts,  a  sacrilegious  bonfire,  composed  of  the  sacred 
books,  was  lighted  in  the  public  squares.*  Thus  did  Rome, 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  renew  the  efforts  by  which  heathen- 
ism had  attempted  to  uproot  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ,  at 
the  period  when  the  reins  were  escaping  from  the  hands  of 
the  Priests  of  Idol  worship.  But  what  power  can  stay  the 
triumphant  progress  of  the  Gospel  ?  "  Even  after  I  had  pro- 
hibited the  sale,"  wrote  Duke  George,  "  many  thousand  copies 
were  sold  and  read  in  my  states." 

God  even  used,  for  the  purpose  of  making  known  His 
word,  the  very  hands  that  were  essaying  to  destroy  it.  The 
Romish  divines,  seeing  they  could  not  stop  the  circulation  of 
the  Reformer's  work,  themselves  put  forth  a  translation  of  the 
New  Testament.  It  was  no  other  than  Luther's,  here  and 
there  altered  by  the  new  editors.  No  hindrance  was  offered 
to  the  reading  of  it.  Rome  had  not  yet  experienced  that 
wherever  the  Word  of  God  took  root,  its  own  power  began 
to  totter.  Joachim  of  Brandenburg,  gave  license  to  his  sub- 
jects to  read  any  translation  of  the  Bible,  in  Latin  or  in  Ger- 
man, provided  it  were  not  from  the  presses  of  Wittemberg. 
The  German  nations,  and  more  especially  the  people  of 
Brandenburg,  made,  in  this  way,  a  decided  advance  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  publication  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  vernacular 
tongue,  is  among  the  memorable  epochs  of  the  Reformation. 
If  the  marringe  of  Feldklrchen  had  been  the  first  step  in  ihe 
progress  of  its  influence  from  the  sphere  of  teaching  to  that  of 
social  life; — if  the  abolition  of  monastic  vows  had  been  the 
second,  and  the  establishment  of  the  Supper  of  the  Lord  a 
third  stage  of  this  transition,  the  publication  of  the  New  Tes- 

*  Clui  et  alicubi  in  unum  congesti  rogum  publice  combusti  sunt. 


EFFECTS    OF    LUTHEr's    TRANSLATION.  89 

taraeut  was.  perhaps,  fvpn  more  important  than  all  the  rest 
It  wrought  an  entire  cliange  in  the  aspect  of  society — not 
alone  in  the  prirsi's  prebbyiery — not  merely  in  the  monk's 
cell  and  the  noble's  closet,  but  more  than  this,  in  the  interior 
of  the  dwellings  of  the  nobles,  citizens,  and  peasantry.  When 
Christians  began  to  read  the  Bible  in  their  familits,  Christian- 
ity itself  underwent  a  palpable  change.  Thence  ensued 
changed  habits, — improved  morals, — other  conversations, — in 
short,  a  new  life.  Wiih  the  publication  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, it  seemed  as  if  the  Reformation  passed  the  threshold  of 
the  college,  and  took  its  proper  place  at  the  hearths  of  the 
people. 

The  effect  that  followed  was  incalculable.  The  Christian- 
ity of  the  Primitive  Church  was,  by  the  publication  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  presented  full  before  the  eyes  of  the  nation, 
recovered  fiom  the  oblivion  in  which  for  centuries  it  had  lain 
hid, — and  the  sight  was,  of  itself,  enough  to  justify  the  charges 
that  had  been  brought  against  Rome.  The  least  instructed, 
provided  they  did  bui  know  how  to  read — women,  artisans, 
(we  are  quoting  from  one  of  that  age  who  was  bitterly  opposed 
to  the  Reformation.)  studied  the  New  Testament  with  eager 
delight.*  They  carried  it  about  with  them,  learnt  portions 
by  heart,  and  saw  in  its  precious  pages  the  proof  of  the  per- 
fect accordance  of  that  Reformation  which  was  Luther's  aim, 
with  the  revelation  that  God  had  given. 

Meanwhile,  it  was  in  detached  portions  only  that  the  teach- 
ing of  the  Bible  and  of  the  Reformation  had  till  then  been 
set  forth.  A  certain  truth  had  been  declared  in  one  tract — a 
certain  error  exposed  in  another.  The  field  of  the  Church 
presented  the  appearance  of  a  plain,  on  which  here  and  there 
were  seen,  without  order  or  arrangement,  the  ruins  of  the  old, 
and  the  materials  of  a  new  structure;  but  as  yet  the  new 
edifice  was  wanting.  True  it  is,  that  the  publication  of  the 
New  Testament  met  this  want.  The  Reformation  might  say, 
with  that  book  in  iis  hand — "  Behold  my  system."     But  as 

*  ...   mulieres,   et  quilibet  idiotse  .  .  .  avidissime  legerent. 

rCochlaeus,  p.  50.) 

8* 


90  THE     "  LOCI    COMMUNES." 

each  individual  may  contend  that  his  system  is  none  othe? 
than  that  of  the  Bibip,  the  Reformation  seemed  called  to  set 
forth  in  order  what  it  foimd  in  Holy  Scriptare.  This  was  a 
work  Melancthon  now  coritrib'utKi  in  its  name. 

In  the  development  of  his  theology,  M<-l;mcthon's  steps  had 
been  deliberate;  but  they  were  taken  with  firmness,  and  the 
result  of  his  enquiries  was  courageously  made  known  to  alK 
As  early  as  1520,  he  had  declared  that  some  of  the  seven 
sacraments  were,  in  his  judgment,  mere  imitations  of  Jewish 
feasts;  and  that  he  considered  the  asserted  infallibility  of  the 
Pope  as  a  proud  pretension,  directly  at  variance  with  Scripture 
and  sound  judgment.  "  We  want  more  than  a  Hercules,"* 
remarked  he,  "to  make  a  st;md  against  such  doctrines." 
Here  we  see  that  Melancthon  had  been  led  to  the  same  con- 
clusion as  Luther  by  a  more  studious  and  calm  process  of 
conviction.  The  time  had  now  come  that  he  in  his  tura 
should  publicly  confess  his  faith. 

In  1521,  during  his  friend's  captivity  in  the  Wartburg,  his 
celebrated  "  Loci  Communes*^  had  presented  to  Christian 
Europe  a  body  of  doctrine,  based  on  solid  ground?:,  and 
admirably  compacted.  The  tracings  of  a  simple  and  majestic 
outline  appeared  before  the  wondering  minds  of  that  genera- 
tion. As  the  translation  of  the  New  Testament  had  justified 
the  Reformation  to  the  people,  soMelancthon's  Loci  Communes 
served  to  justify  in  it  the  judgment  of  the  learned. 

For  fifteen  centuries  the  Church  had  existed  on  the  earth 
without  having  seen  such  a  work.  Relinquishing  the  com- 
mon argumentation  of  scholastic  theology,  the  friend  of  Luther 
had  at  last  given  to  Christendom  a  system  of  divinity,  derived 
entirely  from  Scripture.  In  it  the  reader  was  conscious  of  a 
breath  of  life,  a  quickness  of  understanding,  a  force  of  convic- 
tion, and  a  simplicity  of  statement,  which  strikingly  contrasted 
with  the  subtle  and  pedantic  method  of  the  schools.  The 
coolest  judgments,  and  the  most  exact  divines,  were  alike 
impressed  with  admiration. 

*  Adversijs  quas  non  uno  nobis,  ut  ita  dicam,  Hercule  opus  est. 
(Corp.  Rof.  i.  p.  137.) 


OIUGtNAL    S!N.  91 

Erasmus  designated  this  work  a  wondrous  army,  ranged 
in  order  of  battle  against  the  pharisaic  tyranny  of  false  teach- 
ers;* and  while  he  confessed  that  on  some  points  he  did  net 
agree  with  the  author,  he  nevertheless  added,  that  having 
always  loved  him,  he  had  never  loved  him  so  much  as  after 
reading  this  work.  '"So  beautiful  is  the  proof  that  it  affords," 
said  Calvin,  when  presenting  it  at  a  subsequent  period  to  the 
French  people,  "  that  the  most  perfect  simplicity  is  the  noblest 
method  of  handling  the  Christian  doctrine."! 

But  no  one  experienced  a  finer  joy  than  Luther;  to  the 
last  this  work  was  to  him  a  theme  of  wonder.  The  occasion- 
al sounds  his  trembling  hand  had  drawn,  in  the  deep  emotion 
of  his  sonl,  from  the  chords  of  prophets  and  apostles,  were 
here  blended  together  in  entrancing  harmony.  Those  solid 
masses  of  truth  which  he  had  hewn  from  the  quarry  of  Holy 
Scripture,  were  here  raised  and  compacted  together  in  one 
majestic  edifice.  He  was  never  tired  of  commending  the 
work  to  the  attention  of  the  youths  who  came  to  study  at 
Wittemberg.  "  If  you  would  wish  to  become  divines,"  said 
he,  "read  Melancthon."J 

In  Melancthon's  judgment,  a  deep  sense  of  the  wretched 
state  to  which  man  is  reduced  by  si7i,  is  the  foundation  on 
which  we  must  build  the  teaching  of  Christian  theology. 
This  universal  evil  is  the  primary  fact,  the  leading  truth 
whence  the  science  takes  its  departure ;  and  it  is  this  which 
forms  the  peculiar  distinction  of  theology  from  the  sciences 
which  work  their  own  advancement  by  the  powers  of  reason. 

The  Christian  divine,  diving  into  the  heart  of  man,  reveal- 
ed its  laws  and  mysterious  motions,  as  the  philosopher  in  later 
times  has  disclosed  the  laws  and  attractions  of  material  bodies. 
"  Original  sin,"  said  he,  "  is  an  inclination  born  with  us — an 
impulse  which  is  agreeable  to  us — a  certain  influence  which 

■  *  Video  dogmatum  aciem  pulchre  instructam  adversus  tyrannidem 
pharisaicam.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  949.) 

t  La  Somme  de  Theologie,  par  Philippe  Melancthon.  (Geneve, 
1551.  Jehan  Calvin  aux  lecteurs.) 

t  "  Librum  invictum,"  said  he  another  time,  "  non  solum  immor- 
talitate  sed  et  canone  ecclesiastico  dignum."     (De  servo  arbitrio.) 


92  FREE    WILL. 

leads  us  into  the  commission  of  sin,  and  which  has  passed 
from  Adam  upon  all  his  posterity.  Just  as  there  is  found  in 
fire  a  native  energy  which  mounts  upward,  just  as  in  the  load- 
stone we  observe  a  natural  power  of  attracting  steel,  just  so  do 
we  find  in  man  a  primary  impulse  impelling  him  to  that 
which  is  evil.  I  admit  freely  that  in  Socrates,  Xenocrates, 
Zeno,  were  seen  temperance  and  chastity;  these  exterior 
virtues  were  found  in  men  whose  hearts  were  unpurified,  and 
they  proceeded  out  of  the  love  of  self,  hence  we  should  regard 
them  in  reality,  not  as  virtues,  but  vices."*  Such  language 
may  sound  harsh,  but  not  so  if  we  enter  into  Melancthon's 
real  meaning.  None  more  prompt  than  he  to  acknowledge 
virtues  in  the  great  men  of  antiquity,  which  entitled  them  to 
the  esteem  of  men ;  but  he  laid  dowm  the  solemn  truth,  that 
the  highest  Jaw  given  by  God  to  all  his  creatures  is  to  love 
Him  above  all  things.  If  then  man  is  doing  that  which 
God  commands,  does  it,  not  from  love  to  God,  but  from  love 
of  self — can  we  think  that  God  will  accept  him,  thus  daring 
to  substitute  self  in  place  of  His  own  infinite  Majesty?  And 
must  it  not  be  enough  to  vitiate  any  action,  that  it  involves  in 
it  a  direct  rebellion  against  the  sovereignty  of  God  ? 

The  Wittemberg  divine  proceeded  to  show  how  man  is  res- 
cued from  this  wretched  state:  "The  Apostle,"  said  he,  "in- 
vites thee  to  contemplate  at  the  Father's  right  h  :nd,  the  Son 
of  God,  our  great  Mediator,  ever  living  to  make  intercfssion 
for  us.t  and  he  calls  upon  thee  to  believe  assuredly  that  thy 
sins  are  pardoned,  and  thyself  counted  righteous  and  accepted 
by  the  Father,  for  the  sake  of  that  Son  who  died  upon  the  cross." 

A  peculiar  interest  attaches  to  this  first  edition  of  the  Loci 
Communes,  from  the  manner  in  which  the  German  divine 
speaks  concerning  Free  Will.  We  find  him  recognising, 
even  more  clearly  than  had  been  done  by  Luther,  (for  he  was 
more  of  a  theologian,)  that  this  doctrine  could  not  he  separated 
r  *  Loci  communes  theohgici.  Bale,  1521,  p.  35, — a  rare  edition.  See 
for  the  subsequent  revisions,  that  of  Eriangen,  1828,  a  reprint  of  that 
of  Bale,  1561. 

t  Vult  te  intueri  Filium  Dei  sedentem  ad  dextcram  Patris,  media- 
torem  interpellantem  pro  nobis.     (Ibid.) 


KNOWLEDGE    01"    CltRISl*.  03 

from  that  which  constituted  the  very  essence  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. Man's  justification  in  the  sight  of  God,  is  by  Faith 
ALONE,  was  the  first  point.  This  faith  wrought  in  man's 
heart  by  the  alonk  Grace  of  God,  was  the  second.  Me- 
lancthon  saw  clearly  that  to  allow  any  ability  in  the  natural 
man  to  believe^  would,  in  this  second  point,  entirely  set  aside 
that  grand  doctrine  of  Grace  which  is  asserted  in  the  first. 
He  was  too  discerning,- — too  deeply  instructed  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, to  be  misled  on  so  important  a  question.  But  he  went 
too  far:  instead  of  confining  himself  to  the  religious  bearing 
of  the  question,  he  entered  upon  metaphysics.  He  laid  down 
a  sort  of  fatalism,  which  might  lend  his  readers  to  think  of 
God  as  the  author  of  evil,  and  which  consequently  has  no 
foundation  in  Scripture: — "  Since  whatever  happens,"  said  he, 
"happens  by  necessity,  agreeably  to  the  divine  foreknowledge, 
it  is  plain  that  our  will  hath  no  liberty  whatever."* 

But  the  principal  object  Melancthon  had  in  view,  was  to 
present  theology  as  a  system  of  devotion. — The  schools  had 
so  dried  up  the  generally  received  creed,  as  to  leave  it  desti- 
tute of  life.  The  office  of  the  Reformation  was  to  reanimate 
this  lifeless  creed.  In  succeeding  editions,  Melancthon  felt  the 
necessity  for  great  clearness  m  doctrinal  statements. t  In 
1521,  however,  it  was  not  so  much  the  case.  "The  know- 
ledge of  Christ,"  said  he,  "is  found  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
blessings  derived  through  him.  Paul,  writing  to  the  Romans, 
and  desiring  to  sum  up  the  Christian  doctrine,  does  not  set 
about  treating  philosophically  of  the  Trinity,  the  Incarnation, 
Creation,  active  or  passive.  What,  then,  are  his  themes  ? — the 
Law,  Sin,  Grace.  On  our  instruction  in  these,  depends  our 
knowledge  of  Christ ";{: 

*  Q,uandoquiclem  omnia  quae  eveniunt,  necessario  eveniunt  juxta 
divinam  praedestinationem,  nulla  est  voluntatis  nostrae  libertas.  Loci 
comm.  theol.  Bale,  IS'll,  p.  35. 

t  See  the  edition  of  1561,  reprinted  in  1829,  pa^es  14  to  44,  the 
several  chapters, — De  tribus  personis  ; — De  divjnitate  Filii ; — De  duabus 
naturis  in  Christo; — Testimonia  quod  Filius  sit  persona;  testiinonia 
refutantia  Arianos;  De  discernendis  proprietatibus  humanse  et  divinaj 
naturae  Christi; — De  Spiritu  sancto,  &c.  &c. 

%  Hoc  est  Christum  cognosccre,  beneficia  ejus  cognoscere,  &c.  (Ibid.) 


94         EFFECT  OF  MELANCTHON's  TRACT. 

The  publication  of  this  treatise  was  of  singular  service  to 
the  cause  of  truth.  Calumnies  stood  refuted — prejudices  were 
dissipated.  Among  the  religious,  the  worldly,  and  the  learn- 
ed, the  genius  of  Melancthon  was  admired,  and  his  character 
esteemed  and  loved.  Even  such  as  had  no  personal  know- 
ledge of  the  author  were  conciliated  to  his  creed  by  this  work. 
The  vigour  and  occasional  violence  of  Luther's  language  had 
offended  many ;  but  in  Melancthon,  an  elegance  of  composi- 
tion, a  discriminating  judgment,  and  a  remarkable  clearness 
and  arrangement  were  seen  engaged  in  the  exposition  of  those 
mighty  truths  that  had  aroused  the  slumbering  world.  The 
work  was  rapidly  bought  up,  and  read  with  avidity.  His 
gentleness  and  modesty  won  all  hearts,  while  his  elevation  of 
thought  commanded  their  respect ;  and  the  higher  classes,  who 
had  been  hitherto  undecided,  were  captivated  by  a  wisdom 
which  had  at  last  found  so  noble  an  utterance. 

On  the  other  hand,  such  of  the  opposers  of  the  truth  as  had 
not  been  humbled  by  the  energy  of  Luther,  were,  for  a  while, 
silenced  and  disconcerted  by  the  appearance  of  Melancthon's 
tract.  They  had  found  another  man  as  worthy  as  Luther  to 
be  a  mark  for  their  hatred.  "  Alas  !"  they  exclaimed,  "alas, 
for  Germany !  to  what  new  extremity  shall  we  be  brought  by 
this  last  birth!"* 

The  Loci  Communes  passed  through  sixty-seven  editions 
between  1521  and  1595,  without  including  translations.  Next 
to  the  Bible,  this  work  may  have  mainly  contributed  to  the 
establishment  of  the  evangelical  doctrine. 

Whilst  the  "  grammarian,"  Melancthon,  v/as  by  this  happy 
co-operation  aiding  the  efforts  of  Luther,  schemes  of  a  violent 
character  were  again  planning  by  his  formidable  enemies.  At 
the  news  that  he  had  effected  his  escape  from  the  Wartburg, 
and  appeared  again  on  the  world's  stage,  the  rage  of  his  former 
adversaries  returned. 

Luther  had  bpen  rather  more  than  three  months  at  Wit- 
temberg,  when  a  rumour,  repeated  by  common  fame,  brought 
him  the  intelligence  that  one  of  the  greatest  monarchs  of 

*  lieu !  infelicem  hoc  novo  partu  Germaniam !  ,  .  .  (Cochl.) 


HENRY    VIII.  95 

Christendom  had  risen  up  against  him.  Henry  VIII.  head 
of  the  house  of  Tudor,  a  prince  descended  from  the  families 
of  York  and  Lancaster,  and  in  whom,  after  torrents  of  blood- 
shed, the  red  and  white  roses  were  at  length  united,  the  puis- 
sant king  of  England,  who  boldly  advanced  the  obsolete  au- 
thority of  his  crown  over  the  continent,  and  more  particularly 
over  France — had  put  forth  an  answer  to  the  poor  monk  of 
Wittemberg.  "  I  hear  much  commendation  of  a  little  treatise 
by  the  king  of  England,"  wrote  Luther  to  Lange,  on  the  2Gih 
of  June  1522.* 

Henry  the  Eighth  was  then  in  his  thirty-first  year, — "tall, 
strong-built,  and  proportioned,  and  had  an  air  of  authority  and 
empire,"!  and  a  countenance  that  expressed  the  vivacity  of  his 
mind.  Vehement  in  temper,  bearing  down  whatever  stood  in 
the  way  of  his  passions,  and  thirsting  for  distinctions,  the  de- 
fects of  his  character,  were  for  a  time,  mistaken  for  the  impe- 
tuosity of  youth — and  there  was  no  lack  of  flatterers  to  con- 
firm him  in  them.  Often  would  he  resort,  accompanied  by 
his  favourite  companions,  to  the  house  of  his  chaplain,  Thomas 
Wolsey,  the  son  of  a  butcher  of  Ipswich.  This  man,  who 
was  gifted  with  great  abilities,  of  excessive  ambition,  and  un- 
bounded audacity,  being  patronised  by  the  Bishop  of  Win- 
chester, the  king's  chancellor,  had  rapidly  risen  in  his  master's 
favour.  He  would  often  allure  the  young  prince  to  his  resi- 
dence by  the  attraction  of  riotous  pleasures,^  in  which  he 
would  not  have  ventured  to  indulge  within  the  walls  of  his 
own  palace.  This  is  recorded  by  Polydore  Vergil,  then  sub- 
collector  of  the  pope's  revenues  in  England.  In  these  orgies, 
the  chaplain  outdid  the  licentiousness  of  the  younger  courtiers: 

*  Jactant  libellum  regis  Angliae ;  sed  leum  ilium  suspicor  sub  pelle 
tectum — an  allusion  to  Lee,  Henry  the  Eightli's  chaplain,  punning  on 
his  name.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  213.) 

t  He  was  tall,  strong-built,  and  proportioned,  and  had  an  air  of 
authority  and  empire.  (Collier's  Eccles.  Hist,  of  Great  Britain,  fol.  ii.  I.) 

X  Domi  suae  voluptatum  omnium  sacrariura  fecit,  quo  regem  fre- 
quenter ducebat.  (Polyd.  Vergilius,  Angl.  Hist.  Bale,  1.570,  fol.  p. 
G33.) — Polydore  Vergil  seems  to  have  been  a  sufferer  by  Wolsey'a 
pride,  and  to  have  been,  perhaps,  inclined  on  that  account,  to  ex- 
aggerate that  minister's  errors. 


96  CATHERINE    OF    ARRAGON. 

He  sang,  danced,  laughed,  played  the  buffoon,  took  part  in  in- 
decent conversation,  and  fenced.*  He  soon  attained  the  high- 
est seat  at  the  council  board,  and  the  whole  kingly  power 
passing  into  his  hands,  he  was  enabled  to  stipulate  with  foreign 
princes  for  a  reward  for  his  influence  in  affairs. 

Henry  passed  whole  days  in  balls,  banqueting,  and  justing 
— thus  squandering  the  treasure  which  the  avarice  of  his 
father  had  accumulated.  Splendid  tournaments  succeeded 
each  other  without  intermission.  On  these  occasions,  the 
king,  who  was  easily  distinguished  from  the  other  combatants 
by  his  manly  beauty,  took  the  Jead.f  If  the  contest  seemed 
for  a  moment  doubtful,  his  expertness  or  strength,  or  else  the 
skilful  policy  of  his  antagonist,  decided  the  victory  in  his 
favour,  and  the  arena  resounded  with  shouts  of  applause. 
Such  easy  triumphs  inflated  the  vanity  of  the  young  prince, 
and  there  was  no  pinnacle  of  earthly  grandeur  to  which  he 
would  not  have  aspired.  The  Clueen  was  often  present  on 
such  occasions.  Her  grave  deportment,  melancholy  look,  and 
constrained  and  depressed  manner,  presented  a  marked  con- 
trast to  the  tumultuous  glitter  of  such  festivities.  Henry  VUI., 
soon  after  his  accession,  had,  from  political  considerations, 
contracted  marriage  with  Catherine  of  Arragon,  five  years 
older  than  himself,  widow  of  his  brother  Arthur,  and  aunt  to 
Charles  V.  While  her  husband  followed  his  pleasures,  tho 
virtuous  Catherine,  whose  piety  was  such  as  Spain  has  been 
noted  for,  was  accustomed  to  leave  her  bed  in  the  dead  of  the 
night  to  take  a  silent  part  in  the  prayers  of  the  monks.J     She 

*  Cum  illis  adolescentibus  una  psallebat,  saltabat,  sermones  leporis 
plenos  habcbat,  ridebat,  jocabatur.  (Polyd.  Vergilius,  Angl.  Hist.  Bale, 
1570,  fol.  p.  633.) 

t  Eximia  corporis  forma  praeditus,  in  qua  ctiam  regisB  majestatia 
augusta  quaedam  species  elucebat.  (Sanderus  de  Schismate  Anglicano, 
p.  4.) — The  work  of  Sanders,  the  Pope's  nuncio,  must  be  read  with 
much  suspicion,  for  unfounded  and  calumnious  statements  are  not 
wanting  in  it — as  has  been  remarked  by  Cardinal  Cluirini  and  the 
Roman  Catholic  doctor  Lingard. — (See  the  History  of  England,  by  this 
last,  vol  vi.  p.  173.) 

t  Surgebat  media  nocte  ut  nocturnis  rcligiosorum  prccibus  interesset. 
(Sanders,  p.  5.) 


BISHOP    FISHER    AND    SIR    THOMAS    MORE.  97 

would  kneel  without  cushion  or  carpet.  At  five,  after  taking 
a  little  rest,  she  would  again  rise,  and  a.ssume  the  habit  of  St. 
Francis;  for  she  had  been  admitted  into  the  third  order  of  that 
saint.*  Then,  hastily  throwing  over  her  the  royal  garments, 
she  was  in  church  at  six,  to  join  in  the  holy  offices. 

Two  beings,  living  in  such  different  atmospheres,  could  not 
long  continue  united. 

Catherine,  however,  was  not  the  only  representative  of 
Romish  devotion  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  John  Fisher, 
bishop  of  Rochester,  then  nearly  seventy  years  of  age,  and 
distinguished  alike  for  his  learning  and  strict  morals,  was  the 
object  of  universal  veneration.  He  had  been,  for  a  long 
period,  the  oldest  counsellor  of  Henry  VII.,  and  the  Duchess 
of  Richmond,  grandmother  to  Henry  VIII.,  had,  on  her 
death-bed,  confided  to  him  the  youth  and  inexperience  of  her 
grandson.  The  king,  in  the  midst  of  his  excesses,  long  con- 
tinued to  revere  the  aged  bishop  as  a  father. 

A  much  younger  man  than  Fisher,  a  layman  and  civilian, 
had,  at  this  time,  attracted  general  attention  by  his  genius  and 
noble  character.  His  name  was  Thomas  More.  He  was  the 
son  of  one  of  the  judges  of  the  Court  of  King's  Bench.  In 
poor  circumstances,  of  temperate  habits,  and  unwearied  appli- 
cation, he,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  had  sought  to  mortify  the 
passions  of  youth  by  wearing  a  hair-shirt,  and  by  self-inflicted 
scourgings.  One  day,  when  summoned  to  the  presence  of 
Henry  VIII.,  at  a  moment  wh^n  he  was  attending  mass,  he 
replied — '•  The  king's  service  must  give  way  to  the  service  of 
God."  Wolsey  introduced  him  to  Henry,  who  employed 
him  in  various  embassies,  and  lavished  on  him  much  kind- 
ness. He  would  often  send  for  him  to  converse  with  him  on 
astronomy,  and  at  other  times  concerning  Wolsey,  or  on  dis- 
puted points  of  theology. 

The  king  was,  to  say  the  truth,  not  altogether  unacquainted 
with  the  doctrines  of  Rome.  It  even  appears,  that,  had  prince 
Arthur  lived  to  ascend  the  throne,  Henry  was  destined  to  the 
archiepiscopal  see  of  Canterbur3^     In  his  mind  and  life  were 

♦  Sub  regio  vestitii  Divi  Francisci  habitu  utebatur.  (Sanders,  p.  5.) 
VOL.    III.  9  "^ 


98  CARDINAL   WOLSEY. 

Strangely  blended  Thomas  Aquinas* — St.  Bonaventura — tour- 
naments— banquetings — Elizabeth  Blount,  and  others  of  his 
mistresses.  Masses  set  to  music  by  himself  were  chaunted  in 
his  chapel. 

From  the  time  Henry  VIII.  first  heard  of  Luther,  his 
indignation  broke  forth ;  and  no  sooner  did  the  decree  of  the 
Diet  of  Worms  reach  England  than  he  gave  orders  that  the 
Pontift^'s  bull  against  the  Reformer's  writings  should  be  car- 
ried into  execution.!  On  the  12lh  of  May,  1521,  Thomas 
Wolsey,  who,  together  with  the  rank  of  Chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, held  that  of  Cardinal  and  Roman  Legate,  repaired  in 
solemn  procession  to  St.  Paul's  Church.  Swollen  by  excess 
of  pride,  he  assumed  to  rival  the  pomp  of  royalty  itself  He 
was  accustomed  to  seat  himself  in  a  gold  chair,  slept  in  a 
golden  bed,  and  dined  on  a  table  covered  with  cloth  of  gold.J 
On  this  occasion  he  displayed  his  utmost  state.  His  house- 
hold, to  the  number  of  800  persons,  comprising  barons,  knights, 
sons  of  the  first  familifS,  who  had  entered  his  service  as  a  step 
towards  the  service  of  the  state,  attended  the  haughty  prelate. 
His  garments  shone  with  gold  and  silk,  (he  was  the  first 
ecclesiastic  who  had  ventured  to  assume  such  sumptuous 
apparel )§  Even  the  horse-cloths  and  harness  were  of  the 
like  costly  materials.  Before  him  walked  a  priest  of  lofty 
stature,  bearing  a  silver  pillar,  surmounted  by  a  cross.  Behind 
him,  another  stately  ecclesiastic,  holding  in  his  hand  the 
archiepiscopal  crozi^r  of  York ;  a  nobleman  at  his  side, 
carried  his  cardinal's  hat.  ||  Others  of  the  nobility — the  pre- 
lates— the   ambassadors  of  the   Pope   and  of  the  Emperor 

♦  Legebat  studiose  libros  divi  Thomae  Aquinatis.  (Polyd.  Vergil, 
p.  634) 

t  Primum  libros  Lutheranos,  quorum  magnus  jam  numerus  per 
venerat  in  manus  suorum  Anglorum,  comburendos  curavit.  (Ibid.  p.  664.) 

i  Uti  sella  aurea,  uti  pulvino  aureo,  uti  velo  aureo  ad  mensam. 
(Ibid.  p.  664.) 

§  Primus  episcoporum  et  cardinalium,  vestitum  exteriorem  sericum 
*ibi  induit.     (Polyd.  Vergil,  p.  633.) 

H  Galerum  cardinalium,  ordinis  insignem,  sublime  a  ministro  prsefer- 
«bat ....  super  altare  coUocabat ....  (Ibid.  p.  645.) 


HENRY    VIII.    WRITES    AGAINST    LUTHER.  99 

joined  the  cavalcade,  and  were  followed  by  a  long  line  of 
mules,  bearing  chests  overhung  with  rich  and  brilliant  stuffs; 
and  in  this  pompous  procession  the  several  parties  that  com- 
posed it  were  carrying  to  the  pile  the  writings  of  the  poor 
monk  of  Wittemberg.  On  reaching  the  church,  the  proud 
priest  deposited  his  cardinal's  hat  on  the  altar  itself  The 
viituous  Bishop  of  Rochester  took  his  place  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  and  with  accents  of  strong  emotion,  preached  earnestly 
against  heresy.  After  this,  the  attendants  drew  near  bearing 
the  writings  of  the  heresiarch,  ard  they  were  devoutly  con- 
sumed in  the  presence  of  a  vast  concourse  of  spectators. 
Such  was  the  first  public  announcement  of  the  Reformation  to 
the  people  of  England. 

Henry  did  not  rest  there.  This  prince,  whose  sword  was 
ever  uplifted  against  his  adversaries,  his  wives,  and  his  fa- 
vourites, wrote  to  the  Elector  Palatine — "  Surely,  it  is  no 
other  than  the  devil,  who,  by  the  agency  of  Luther,  has  kin- 
dled this  wide-spreading  conflagration.  If  Luther  will  not 
retract,  let  himself  and  his  writings  be  committed  to  the 
flames."* 

But  this  was  not  all.  Convinced  that  the  progress  of  heresy 
was  mainly  ascribable  to  the  extreme  ignorance  of  the  Ger- 
man princes,  Henry  conceived  that  the  moment  was  arrived 
for  the  exhibition  of  his  own  learning.  The  recollection  of 
the  triumphs  of  his  batile-axe  did  not  permit  him  to  doubt  of 
the  victory  he  should  gain  by  his  pen.  But  another  passion, 
vanity, — ever  large  in  little  minds, — spurred  on  the  royal 
puipose.  He  was  mortified  by  the  circumstance,  that  he  had 
no  title  to  set  against  that  of  Most  Christian  and  Catholic, 
borne  by  the  kings  of  France  and  of  Spain,  and  had  for  a  long 
time  solicited  from  the  court  of  Rome  a  similar  distinction. 
What  course  more  likely  to  obtain  it  than  an  attack  upon 
heresy!  Henry,  then,  laid  aside  his  royal  dignity,  and  de- 
scended from  his  throne  into  the  arena  of  theological  dispute. 
He  pressed  into  his  service  Thomas  Aquinas,  Peter  Lombard, 
Alexander  of  Hale,  and  Bonaventura,  and  gave  to  the  world 
*  Knapp's  Nachlese,  ii.  p.  458. 


100  ROYAL    THEOLOGY. 

his  "  Defence  of  the  Seven  Sacraments^  against  Martin  Lu- 
ther, hy  the  most  Invincible  King  of  England  and  of  France^ 
Lord  of  Ireland^  Henry,  the  Eighth  of  that  name^^ 

"  I  will  put  myself  in  the  forefront  of  the  Church,  to  save 
her,"  said  the  king  of  England  in  this  book ; — "  I  will  receive 
into  my  bosom  the  poisoned  darts  of  her  assailant  ;*  what  I 
hear  constrains  me  to  this.  All  the  servants  of  Jesus  Christ, 
whatever  be  their  age,  sex  or  rank,  should  rise  up  against  the 
common  enemy  of  Christendom."t 

"  Let  us  be  doubly  armed :  with  the  heavenly  armour  to 
conquer  with  the  arms  of  truth,  him  who  fights  with  those  of 
error ;  but  also  an  earthly  armour,  so  that,  should  he  show 
himself  obstinate  in  malice,  the  hand  of  the  executioner  may 
silence  him;  and  thus,  for  once  at  least,  he  may  be  useful  to 
the  world,  by  the  terrible  example  of  his  death."  J 

Henry  VIII.  could  not  conceal  the  contempt  which  he  en- 
tertained for  his  feeble  adversary.  "  This  man,"  says  the 
royal  theologian,  "  seems  to  be  in  pains  of  labour  ;  he  travails 
in  birth ;  and  lo !  he  brings  forth  but  wind.  Take  away  the 
audacious  covering  of  proud  words,  with  which  he  clothes  his 
absurdities, — as  an  ape  is  clothed  with  purple, — and  what  re- 
mains ? — a  wretched  and  empty  sophism."^ 

The  king  defends,  successively,  the  mass,  penance,  con- 
firmation, marriage,  orders,  and  extreme  unction.  He  is  not 
sparing  of  hard  epithets  towards  his  adversary;  styling  him 
sometimes  an  infernal  wolf,  at  others  a  venomous  serpent,  or 
a  limb  of  the  devil,  and  he  even  casts  doubts  on  Luther's  sin- 
cerity. In  short,  Henry  VIII.  crushes  the  mendicant  monk 
with  his  royal  anger,  "  and  writes,"  says  an  historian,  "  as  it 
were  with  his  sceptre."  |J 

*  Meque  adversus  venenata  jacula  hostis  earn  oppugnantis  objicerem 
{Assertio  septem  sacram'^itorum  adv.  M.  LMtherum  in  prologo.) 

t  Omnis  Christi  servus,  omnis  aetas,  omnis  sexus,  omnis  ortlo  con- 
surgat.     (Ibid.) 

t  Et  qui  nocuit  verbo  malitise,  suppHcii  prosit  exemplo.     (Ibid.) 

§  Mirum  est  quanto  nixu  parturiens,  quam  nihil  peperit,  nisi  merum 
ventum.  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 

II  Collier.  Eccl.  Hist.  Gr.  Br.  p.  17. 


THE    king's    vanity.  101 

It  must,  however,  be  confessed,  that  the  book  was  not  ill 
written,  considering- the  author  and  the  age  in  which  he  wrote. 
The  style  is  not  altogether  devoid  of  force.  The  public  of 
the  day  set  no  bounds  to  its  praises.  The  theological  treatise 
of  the  powerful  king  of  England,  was  received  with  a  pro- 
fusion of  adulation.  "The  most  learned  work  that  ever  the 
sun  saw,"  is  the  expression  of  some*  "  It  can  only  be  com- 
pared with  the  works  of  Saint  Augustine,"  said  others.  "  He 
is  a  Constantine,  a  Charlemagne, — nay  more,"  echoed  others, 
"he  is  a  second  Solomon" 

These  flattering  reports  soon  reached  the  continent.  Henry 
had  desired  his  ambassador  at  Rome,  John  Clarke,  dean  of 
Windsor,  to  present  his  book  to  the  Sovereign  Pontiflfl  Leo 
X.  received  the  ambassador  in  full  consistory  :  Clarke  pre- 
sented the  royal  work  to  him  with  these  words,  "  The  king 
my  master  assures  you,  now  that  he  has  refuted  the  errors  of 
Luther  with  the  pen,  he  is  ready  to  combat  his  adherents  with 
the  sword."  Leo,  touched  with  this  promise,  answered,  that 
the  king's  book  could  not  have  been  composed  but  by  the  aid 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  conferred  upon  Henry  the  title  of 
"  Defender  of  the  Faith" — still  borne  by  the  Sovereigns  of 
England ! 

The  reception  which  the  work  met  with  at  Rome,  contri- 
buted not  a  little  to  attract  the  general  attention.  In  a  few 
months,  many  thousand  copies,  from  different  presses,  got  into 
circulation;!  so  that,  to  use  the  words  of  Cochlaeus,  "the 
whole  Christian  world  was  filled  with  wonder  and  joy."| 

Such  extravagant  praises  served  to  augment  the  already  in- 
sufferable vanity  of  the  head  of  the  race  of  Tudor.  He  seem- 
ed himself  to  entertain  no  doubt,  that  he  was  inspired  by  the 
Holy  Spirit.^  Henceforward  he  could  not  endure  contradic- 
tion.    Papal  authority  was   in  his  view,  no  longer  at  Rome, 

*  Burnet,  Hist  of  the  Ref.  of  England,  i.  p.  30. 

t  Intra  paucos  menses,  liber  ejus  a  multis  chalcographis  in  multa 
millia  multiplicatus.     (Cochlaeus,  p.  41.) 

X  Ut  totum  orbem  christianum  et  gaudio  et  admiratione  repleverit. 

§  He  was  brought  to  fiincy  it  was  written  with  some  degree  of  ua- 
epiration.     (Burnet  in  prsef) 


102  Luther's  indignation. 

but  at  Greenwich. — and  inflilllbility  was  vested  in  his  own 
person.  This  proud  assunnption  served  greatly  to  pronnoter, 
at  a  later  period,  the  Reformation  in  England. 

Luther  read  Henry's  book  with  a  stnile,  mingled  with  dis- 
dain, impatience,  and  indignation.  The  falsehoods  and  insults 
it  contained,  but  above  all  the  air  of  pity  and  contempt  which 
the  king  aflected,  irritated  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg  to  the 
highest  degree.  The  thought  that  the  Pope  had  publicly  ap- 
proved the  book,  and  that  on  all  sides  the  enemies  of  the  Gos^ 
pel,  were  triumphing  over  the  Reformation  and  the  Reformer, 
as  already  overthrown,  increased  his  indignation: — and  why 
indeed,  thought  he,  should  he  temporise?  Was  he  not  con- 
tending in  the  cause  of  One  greater  than  all  the  kings  of  this 
earth?  The  gentleness  that  the  Gospel  inculcates  seemed  to 
him  out  of  place.  An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth. 
And  indeed  he  went  beyond  all  bounds : — persecuted,  railed 
at,  hunted  down,  wounded, — the  furious  lion  turned  upon  his 
pursuers,  and  set  himself  determinedly  to  crush  his  enemy. 
The  Elector,  Spalatin,  Melancthon,  Bugenhagen,  essayed  in 
•vain  to  appease  him.  They  tried  to  dissuade  him  from 
replying;  but  nothing  could  stop  him.  "I  won't  be  gentle 
toward  the  king  of  England,"  said  he:  "I  know  it  is  useless 
to  humble  myself,  to  compromise,  entreat  and  try  peaceful  me- 
thods. I  will  show  these  wild  beasts,  who  are  everyday  run- 
nino^  at  me  with  their  horns,  how  terrible  I  can  be ;  I  will  turn 
upon  my  pursuers,  I  will  provoke,  and  exasperate  my  adver- 
sary, until  exhausting  all  his  strength  he  fiills  and  is  for  ever 
annihilated.*  '  If  this  heretic  does  not  retract,'  says  the  new 
Thomas,  Henry  VIH.,  'he  must  be  burnt!'  Such  are  the 
weapons  which  are  now  employed  against  me:  the  fury  and 
the  faggots  of  stupid  asses  and  hogs  of  the  Thomas  Aquinas 
brood. t     Well,  then,  be  it  so !     Let  these  swine  come  on,  if 

*  (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  236.)  Mea  in  ipsos  exercebo  cornua,  irritaturus 
Satanam,  donee  effusis  viribus  et  cornatibus  corruat  in  se  ipso. 

t  Ignis  et  furor  insulsissimorum  asinorum  et  Thomisticorum  por- 
corum.  (Contra  Henricum  Regem,  0pp.  Lat.  ii.  p.  331.)  There  is 
something  in  this  way  of  speaking  which  recalls  to  our  mind  the  lan- 
guage of  the  great  agitator  of  Ireland,  except  that  there  is  more  force 


HIS    REPLY    TO    HENRY    VIII.  103 

they  dare ;  aye,  let  them  even  burn  me — here  I  am,  awaiting" 
them.  My  ashes,  after  death,  though  cast  into  a  thousand 
seas  shall  vise  up  in  arms,  and  pursue,  and  swallow  up  their 
abominable  troop.  Living,  I  will  be  the  enemy  of  the  Pa- 
pacy,— and  burnt,  I  will  be  its  ruin  !  Go  then,  swine  of  St. 
Thomas,  do  what  you  will.  Ever  will  you  find  Luther,  like 
a  bear  upon  your  road,  and  like  a  lion  upon  your  path.  He 
will  fall  upon  you  from  all  sides,  and  give  you  no  rest  until  he 
shall  have  ground  your  iion  brains, and  pulverized  your  brazen 
foreheads  !" 

Luther  begins  by  reproaching  Henry  VHI.  with  having 
supported  his  statements  merely  by  decrees  and  doctrines  of 
man.  '•  As  to  me,"  says  he,  "  I  do  not  cease  my  cry  of  'The 
Gospel !  the  Gospel ! — Christ !  Christ !' — and  my  enemies  are 
as  ready  with  their  answer, — '  Custom  !  custom  !  — Ordinances! 
ordinances  ! — Fathers  !  fathers !' — '  That  ycmr  faith  shmtld  nat 
stand  in  the  wisdom  of  men^  hut  in  the  'power  of  God^  says 
St.  Paul.  And  the  Apostle,  by  this  thunder-clap  from  heaven, 
at  once  overturns  and  disperses,  as  the  u'ind  scatters  the  dust^ 
all  the  foolish  thoughts  of  such  a  one  as  this  Henry!  Alarm- 
ed and  confounded,  the  Aquinases,  Papists,  Henrys,  fall  pros- 
trate before  the  power  of  those  words."* 

He  proceeds  to  refute  in  detail  the  king's  book,  and  exposes 
his  arguments,  one  after  the  other,  with  remarkable  clearness, 
energy,  and  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  and  of  Church  his- 
tory; but  also  with  a  boldness  and  contempt,  and  at  times  a 
violence,  which  need  not  surprise  us. 

Towards  the  end,  Luther's  indignation  is  again  aroused, 
that  his  adversary  should  only  have  drawn  his  arguments  fiom 
the  Fathers;  for  on  them  was  made  to  turn  the  whole  contro- 
versy :  "  To  all  the  decisions  of  Fathers,  of  men,  of  angels,  of 
devils,  I  oppose,"  says  he,  "  not  the  antiquity  of  custom,  not 
the  habits  of  the  many,  but  the  word  of  the  Eternal  God, — 

and  nobility  of  thought  in  the  orator  of  the  sixteenth  century,  than  in 
him  of  the  nineteenth.  (See  Revive  Br'danniqiie,  Nov.  1835  :  *  The 
Reign  of  O'Conneir — "  Soaped  swine  of  civilised  society,"  &c.  p.  30.) 

*  Confusi  et  prostrati  jacent  a  facie  verborum  istius  tonitrui.  (Contra 
Henricum  regem.  0pp.  Lat.  ii.  p.  336.) 


104  LITERARY    COURTESY. 

the  Gospel, — which  they  themselves  are  obliged  to  admit.  It 
is  to  this  book  that  I  keep, — upon  it  I  rest, — in  it  I  make  my 
boast, — in  it  I  triumph,  and  exult  over  Papists,  Aquinases, 
Henrys,  sophists,  and  all  the  swine  of  hell.*  The  King  of 
Heaven  is  on  my  side. — therefore  I  fear  nothing,  though  even 
a  thousand  Augustines,  a  thousand  Cyprians,  and  a  thousand 
such  churches  as  that  of  which  this  Henry  is  Defender,  should 
rise  up  against  me.  It  is  a  small  matter  that  I  should  despise 
and  revile  an  earthly  king,  since  he  himself  has  not  feared, 
by  his  writings,  to  blaspheme  the  King  of  Heaven,  and  pro- 
fane his  Holy  name  by  the  most  daring  lies."t 

"Papists!"  he  exclaims  in  conclusion,  "  will  you  never 
have  done  with  your  vain  attempts?  Do,  then,  what  ye  list. 
Notwithstanding,  it  must  still  come  to  pass,  that  popes,  bishops, 
priests,  monks,  piinces,  devils,  death,  sin, — and  all  that  is  not 
Jesus  Christ,  or  in  Jesus  Christ, — must  fall  and  perish  before 
the  power  of  this  Gospel,  which  I,  Martin  Luther,  have 
preached. "J   • 

Thus  spake  an  unfriended  monk.  His  violence  certainly 
cannot  be  excused,  if  we  judge  of  it  according  to  the  rule  to 
which  he  hims^^lf  was  ever  appealing,  namely,  God's  Word. 
It  cannot  even  be  justified,  by  pleading  in  extenuation,  the 
grossness  of  the  age, — (for  Mt  lancthon  knew  how  to  observe 
courtesy  of  language  in  his  writings.)  —nor  can  we  plead  the 
energy  of  his  charact'^r.  If  something  is  allowed  for  this, 
more  must  be  ascribed  to  the  violence  of  his  passions.  It  is 
better,  then,  that  we  should  give  our  judgment  against  it. 
Nevertheless,  justice  requires  the  remark,  that  in  the  sixteenth 
century  this  extravagant  language  was  not  so  strange  as  it 
would  be  at  this  time.  The  learned  were,  like  the  nobles,  a 
kind  of  estate.  Henry,  in  attacking  Luther,  had  put  himself 
in  the   rank  of  a  man  of  letters.     Luther   replied  to  him 

*  Hie  sto,  hie  sedeo,  hie  maneo,  hie  glorior,  hie  triurapho,  hie  insulto 
papistis  ....  (Contra  Henrieura  regem.  0pp.  Lat.  ii.  p.  342  ) 

t  Nee  magnum  si  ego  regem  terrae  contemno.  (Cont.  Hen.  reg.  p. 
344.  verso.) 

J  3  L.  0pp.  Leipz.  xviii,  p.  209. 


MORe's  attack  upon  LUTHER.  105 

according  to  the  law  which  obtained  in  the  republic  of  letters  ; 
viz.  that  the  truth  of  what  is  stated  is  to  be  considered,  and  not 
the  condition  in  life  of  him  who  states  it.  Let  it  be  added, 
also,  that  when  this  same  king  turned  against  the  Pope,  the 
insults  heaped  upon  him  by  the  Romish  writers,  and  by  the 
Pope  himself,  far  exceeded  all  that  Luther  had  ever  fulmi- 
nated against  him. 

Besides, — if  Luther  did  call  Doctor  Eck  an  ass,  and  Henry 
VIII.  a  hog,  he  indignantly  rejected  the  intervention  of  the 
secular  arm ;  at  the  time  that  the  former  was  writing  a  disser- 
tation to  show  that  heretics  ought  to  be  burned,  and  the  latter 
was  erecting  scafTolds  that  he  might  follow  out  the  precepts  of 
the  chancellor  of  Ingolstadt. 

Great  was  the  emotion  at  the  king's  court,  when  Luther's 
reply  arrived.  Surrey,  Wolsey,  and  the  rest  of  the  courtiers 
put  a  stop  to  the  fetes  and  pageantry  at  Greenwich,  to  vent 
their  indignation  in  sarcasms  and  abuse.  The  aged  Bishop 
of  Rochester,  who  had  looked  on  with  delight  at  the  young 
prince,  formerly  confided  to  his  care,  breaking  a  lance  ia 
defence  of  the  Church,  was  stung  to  the  quick  by  the  monk's 
attack.  He  replied  to  it  at  the  moment.  His  words  gave  a 
good  idea  of  the  age,  and  of  the  Church: — "Take  us  the 
little  foxes  that  spoil  the  vines,  says  Christ  in  Solomon's 
Song;  from  this  we  learn,"  said  Fisher,  "that  we  ought  to 
lay  hands  upon  heretics,  before  they  grow  big.  Luther  is 
become  a  large  fox,  so  old,  so  cunning,  so  mischievous,  that  it 
is  very  difficult  to  catch  him.  What  do  I  say,  a  fox?  He  is 
a  mad  dog,  a  ravening  wolf,  a  cruel  she-bear;  or  rather,  all 
these  put  together,  for  the  monster  includes  many  beasts 
within  him."* 

Thomas  More  also  descended  into  the  arena  to  engage  with 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Although  a  laic,  his  zeal  against 
the  Reformation  amounted  to  fanaticistn,  if  it  would  not  have 
led  him  even  to  the  shedding  of  blood.  When  young  me'n  of 
family  take  up  the  cause  of  the  Papacy,  they  often,  in  their 

*  Canem  dixissem  rabidum,  imo  lupum  rapacissimum,  aut  sffivia. 
simam  quamdam  ursam.     (Cochlaeus,  p.  GO.) 


106  henry's  attachment  to  more. 

violence,  outdo  the  clergy  themselves.  "  Reverend  brother, 
father  tippler,  Luther,  apostate  of  the  order  of  St.  Augustine, 
(misshapen  bacchanalian)  of  either  faculty,  unlearned  doctor 
of  sacred  theology."*  Thus  it  is  the  Reformer  is  addressed 
by  one  of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  the  age.  Then  he  goes 
on  to  say,  in  explanation  of  the  way  in  which  Luther  had 
composed  his  book  against  Henry  VIII. : — "  He  assembled 
his  companions,  and  bid  them  go  each  his  own  way  to  pick 
up  scurrilities  and  insults.  One  frequented  the  public  car- 
riages and  barges;  another  the  baths  and  gambling  houses; 
this  one,  the  barber's  shops  and  low  taverns;  that  one,  the 
manufactory  and  the  house  of  ill  fame.  They  took  down  in 
their  pocket-books  all  that  they  heard  of  insolence,  of  filthi- 
ness,  of  infamy,  and  bringing  back  all  these  insults  and  impu- 
rities, they  filled  with  them  that  dirty  sink  which  is  called 
^^ Luther's  wit. ^^  Then  he  continues :  "If  he  retracts  these 
lies  and  calumnies,  if  he  puts  away  these  fooleries  and  this 
rage,  if  he  swallows  down  his  excrements  again,t  ....  he 
will  find  one  who  will  soberly  discuss  with  him.  But  if  he 
continues  as  he  has  bf^gun,  joking,  taunting,  fooling,  calum- 
niating, vomiting  out  sinks  and  sewers  ....  J  let  others  do 
what  they  choose;  for  ourselves  we  prefer  leaving  the  little 
man  to  his  own  anger  and  dirtiness."^  Thomas  More  would 
have  done  better  to  restrain  his  own  coarseness ;  Luther  never 
descended  to  such  a  style,  neither  did  he  return  it  any  answer. 
This  work  increased  Henry's  attachment  to  More.  He 
even  used  to  go  and  visit  him  at  his  humble  residence  at 
Chelsea.     After  dinner, — his  arm  leaning  on  the  shoulder  of 

♦  Reverendus  frater,  pater,  potator,  Lutherus.  (Cochlaeus,  p.  61.) 
t  Si  .  .    suas  resorbeat  et  sua  relingat  stercora.     (Ibid.  p.  62.) 
t  Sentinas,  cloacas,  latrinas  .  .  .  stercora.     (Ibid.  p.  63.) 

§  Cum  suis et  stercoribus  ...    relinquere.      (Ibid.)    Cochlseus 

indeed  glories  in  the  citation  of  these  passages,  choosing  what,  accord- 
ing to  his  taste,  he  thinks  the  finest  parts  of  the  work  of  Thomas  More. 
M.  Nisard,  on  the  contrary,  confesses  in  his  book  on  More,  whose  de- 
fence he  undertakes  with  so  much  warmth  and  learning,  that,  in  this 
writing,  the  expressions  dictated  by  the  anger  of  the  Catholic  are  such, 
that  the  translation  of  them  is  impossible. 


henry's  letter.  107 

his  favourite,  the  king  would  walk  round  the  garden  with  him, 
whilst  the  astonished  wife  of  his  flattered  host,  concealed 
behind  a  lattice,  with  her  children,  could  not  but  keep  her 
eyes  fixed  on  them.  After  one  of  these  walks,  More,  who 
well  knew  the  man  he  had  to  deal  with,  said  to  his  wife,  "  If 
my  head  could  gain  for  him  a  single  castle  in  France,  he 
would  not  hesitate  a  moment  to  take  it  off" 

The  king,  thus  defended  by  the  Bishop  of  Rochester,  and 
by  his  future  chancellor,  needed  not  any  more  to  resume  his 
pen.  Confounded  at  the  thought  of  being  treated,  in  the  face 
of  Europe,  as  any  common  writer,  Henry  VIII.  abandoned 
the  dangerous  position  he  had  taken,  and  laying  aside  the  pen 
of  the  theologian,  had  recourse  to  the  more  effectual  measures 
of  diplomacy. 

An  ambassador  was  despatched  from  his  court  at  Green- 
wich, with  a  letter  to  the  Elector,  and  to  the  Dukes  of  Saxony. 
"  The  true  serpent  cast  down  from  heaven,  even  Luther," 
says  Henry,  "  casts  out  a  flood  of  poison  upon  the  earth.  He 
excites  revolt  in  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  he  abolishes  its 
laws,  insults  the  authorities,  inflames  the  laity  against  the 
priesthood,  both  of  these  against  the  Pope,  the  people  against 
kings,  and  asks  nothing  better  than  to  see  Christians  fighting 
against,  and  destroying  one  another,  and  the  enemies  of  our 
faith  enjoying,  with  a  savage  grin,  the  scene  of  carnage.* 

"  What  is  this  doctrine,  which  he  calls  evangelical,  other 
than  the  doctrine  of  Wicklif  ?  Now,  most  honoured  uncles, 
I  know  how  your  ancestors  have  laboured  to  destroy  it;  they 
pursued  it,  as  a  wild  beast,  in  Bohemia,  and  driving  it,  till  it 
fell  into  a  pit,  they  shut  it  in  there,  and  barricaded  it.  You 
will  not,  I  am  sure,  let  it  escape  through  your  negligence, 
lest,  making  its  way  into  Saxony,  it  should  become  master  of 
the  whole  of  Germany,  and,  with  smoking  nostrils,  vomiting 
forth  the  fire  of  hell,  spread  that  conflagration  far  and  wide, 

*  So  ergiest  er,  gleichwie  eine  Schlang  vom  Himmel  geworfen.  (L. 
0pp.  xviii.  p.  212.)  The  original  is  in  Latin — Velut  a  coelo  dejectus 
serpens,  virus  effundit  in  terras. 


108         SPREAD  Of  THE  REFORMATION. 

which  your  nation  has  so  often  wished  to  extinguish  in  its 
blood.* 

"  Therefore  it  is,  most  worthy  lords,  I  feel  obliged  to  ex- 
hort you,  and  even  to  beseech  you,  by  all  that  is  most  sacred, 
promptly  to  extinguish  the  cursed  sect  of  Luther.  Shed  no 
blood,  if  it  can  be  avoided  ;  but  if  this  heretical  doctrine  lasts, 
shed  it  without  hesitation,  in  order  that  this  abominable  sect 
may  disappear  from  under  the  heaven."! 

The  Elector  and  his  brother  referred  the  king  to  the  ap- 
proaching council.  Henry  VIII.  was  thus  as  far  as  ever  from 
his  object.  "  So  renownc  d  a  name  mixed  up  in  the  dispute," 
says  Paolo  Sarpi,  •'  served  to  give  it  a  greater  zest,  and  to 
conciliate  general  favour  towards  Luther,  as  is  usually  the 
case  in  combats  and  tournaments,  where  the  spectators  have 
always  a  leaning  to  the  weakest,  and  delight  to  exaggerate  the 
merit  of  his  actions."^ 

In  fact,  an  immense  movement  was  in  progress.  The  Re- 
formation, which,  after  the  Diet  of  Worms,  had  been  thought 
to  be  confined,  together  with  its  great  teacher,  in  the  turret- 
chamber  of  a  strong  castle,  was  breaking  foith  on  all  sides  in 
the  empire,  and  even  throughout  Christendom.  The  two  par- 
ties, until  now,  mixed  up  together,  were  beginning  to  sepa- 
rate, and  the  partisans  of  a  monk,  who  had  nothing  on  his 
side  but  the  power  of  his  words,  were  fearlessly  taking  their 
stand  in  the  face  of  the  followers  of  Charles  V.  and  Leo  X. 
Luther  had  only  just  left  the  Wartburg, — the  Pope  had  ex- 
communicated all  his  adherents, — the  Imperial  Diet  had  just 
condemned  his  doctrine, — the  princes  were  active  in  putting 
it  down  throughout  the  greatest  part  of  the  German  states, — 
the  Romish  priests  were  setting  the  public  against  it  by  their 
violent  invective, — foreign  nations  were  requiring  that  Ger- 
many should  sacrifice  a  man  whose  attacks  were  formidable 
even  at  a  distance, — and  yet,  this  new  sect,  few  in  number,  and 

*  Und  dutch  sein  schadlich  Anblasen  das  hollische  Feuer  ausspriike. 
(L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  213.) 

t  Oder  aber  auch  mit  Blut  vergiessen.     (Ibid.) 
X  Hist,  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  p.  15,  16. 


THE    AUGUSTINE    MONKS.  109 

among  whose  numbers  there  was  no  organization,  no  acting 
in  concert,  nothing,  in  short,  of  concentrated  power,  was 
already,  by  the  energy  of  the  faith  engaged  in  it,  and  the  ra- 
pidity of  its  conquests  of  the  minds  of  men,  beginning  to  cause 
alarm  to  the  vast,  ancient,  and  powerful  sovereignty  of  Rome. 
Everywhere  was  to  be  seen,  as  in  the  first  appearance  of 
spring-time,  the  seed  bursting  forth  from  the  earth,  spontane- 
ously and  without  effort.  Every  day  some  progress  might 
be  remarked.  Individuals,  village  populations,  country  towns, 
nay,  large  cities,  joined  in  this  new  confession  of  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ.  It  was  met  by  strong  opposition  and  fierce 
persecution,  but  the  mysterious  power  which  animated  these 
people  was  irresistible;  and,  though  persecuted,  they  still 
went  forward,  facing  the  terrors  of  exile,  imprisonment,  or  the 
stake,  and  were  every  where  more  than  conquerors  over  their 
persecutors. 

The  monastic  orders,  which  Rome  had  planted  over  the 
whole  of  Christendom,  like  nets  for  catching  souls  and  retain- 
ing them  in  their  meshes,  were  among  the  first  to  burst  their 
fetters,  and  to  propagate  the  new  doctrine  in  every  part  of  the 
Western  Church,  The  Augustines  of  Saxony  had  gone 
along  with  Luther,  and,  like  him,  formed  that  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Word  of  Truth,  which,  making  God  their 
portion,  disabused  their  minds  from  the  dflusions  of  Rome  and 
its  lofty  pretensions.  But  in  other  convents  of  this  order,  the 
light  of  the  Gospel  had  also  shone  forth:  sometimes,  among 
the  aged,  who,  like  Staupitz,  had  preserved,  in  the  midst  of  a 
leavened  Christianity,  the  sound  doctrines  of  truth,  and  were 
now  asking  of  God  that  they  might  depart  in  peace,  since 
their  eyes  had  seen  his  salvation;  sometimes,  among  the 
young,  among  those  who  had  imbibed  Luther's  instructions 
with  the  characteristic  eagerness  of  their  years.  At  Nurem- 
berg, Osnabruck,  Dillingen,  Ratisbon,  in  Hesse,  in  Wiitem- 
burg,  at  Strasburgh,  at  Antwerp,  the  convents  of  the  Augus- 
tines were  returning  to  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  by  their  coura- 
geous confession  exciting  the  indignation  of  Rome. 

But  the  movement  was  not  confined  to  the  Augustines. 

VOL.    III.  10 


HO  THE    FRANCISCANS. 

Men  of  decided  character  among  the  other  orders  followed 
their  example ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  clamours  of  their 
fellow-monks,  who  were  unwilling  to  abandon  their  carnal 
observances,  and  undeterred  by  their  anger  and  contempt,  or 
by  censure,  discipline,  and  claustral  imprisonment,  they  fear- 
lessly lifted  up  their  voices  in  favour  of  that  holy  and  precious 
truth,  which,  after  so  many  toilsome  researches,  so  many  dis- 
tressing doubts,  and  inward  conflicts,  they  had  at  last  found. 
In  the  majority  of  the  cloisters,  the  most  spiritual,  devout,  and 
instructed  monks  declared  themselves  in  favour  of  the  Refor- 
mation. Eberlin  and  Kettenbach  attacked,  from  the  convents 
of  the  Franciscans  at  Ulm,  the  service  of  bondage  of  monkery, 
and  the  superstitious  practices  of  the  Church,  with  an  elo- 
quence that  might  have  drawn  a  whole  nation  after  it.  They 
introduced  in  their  petition,  in  the  same  sentence,  a  request  for 
the  abolition  of  the  houses  of  the  monks,  and  of  those  of  pros- 
titution. Another  Franciscan,  Stephen  Kempe,  preached  the 
Gospel  at  Hamburg,  and,  though  alone,  set  his  face  like  a 
flint  against  the  hatred,  envy,  threats,  cunning,  and  violence 
of  the  priests, — enraged  to  see  the  congregations  forsake  their 
altars,  and  flock  with  enthusiasm  to  his  preachings  * 

Sometimes  it  was  the  superiors  themselves  who  were  first 
won  over  to  the  Reformation.  The  Priors  at  Halberstadt,  at 
Neuenwerk,  at  Halle,  at  Sagan,  set  the  example,  in  this  re- 
spect, to  those  under  their  authority  ;  at  least,  they  declared 
that  if  a  monk  felt  his  conscience  burdenfd  by  his  monastic 
vows,  so  far  from  insisting  on  his  remaining  in  the  convent, 
they  would  themselves  carry  him  out  on  their  shoulders. f 

In  fact,  in  all  parts  of  Germany  might  be  seen  monks  leav- 
ing, at  the  gates  of  their  monastery,  their  frock  and  cowl.  Of 
these,  some  had  be^n  expelled  by  the  violence  of  their  fellows, 
or  of  their. superiors;  others,  of  a  gentle  and  peaceable  spirit, 
could  no  longer  endure  the  continually  recurring  disputes,  in- 
sults, recriminations,  and  animosities,  which  pursued  them  from 

*  Der  ubrigen  Prediger  Feindschafft,  Neid,  Nachstellimgen,  Pra- 
ticken  und  Schrecken.     (Seckendorf,  p.  559.) 

t  Seckendorf,  p.  811.     Stentzel.  Script.  Rer  Siles.  I.  p.  45. 


THE    PEOPLE    AND    THE    PRIESTS.  Ill 

morning  till  night.  Of  all  these,  the  greater  number  were 
convinced  that  the  monastic  vows  were  inconsistent  with  the 
will  of  God  and  the  Christian  life.  Some  had  gradually  been 
led  to  this  conviction;  others  had  reached  it  at  once  by  consi- 
dering a  single  text.  The  indolent,  heavy  ignorance  which 
generally  marked  the  mendicant  orders  communicated  a  feel- 
ing of  disgust  to  men  of  more  intelligent  minds,  who  could  no 
longer  endure  the  society  of  such  associates.  A  Franciscan, 
begging  his  way,  one  day  presented  himself,  box  in  hand,  at 
a  blacksmith's  shop,  in  Nuremberg.  "Why  don't  you  get 
your  bread  by  Avoiking  with  your  own  hands'?"  inquired  the 
blacksm'  !i.  Thus  invited,  the  sturdy  monk,  tossing  from  him 
his  habit,  lifted  the  hammer,  and  brought  it  dowm  again  with 
force  upon  the  anvil.  Behold  the  useless  mendicant  trans- 
formed into  the  industrious  workman  !  The  box  and  monk's 
gown  were  sent  back  to  the  monastery.* 

It  was  not,  how^ever,  the  monks  only,  who  ranged  them- 
selves under  the  standard  of  evangelical  truth :  a  hr  greater 
number  of  priests  proclaimed  the  new  doctrine.  But  it  need- 
ed not  to  be  promulgated  by  human  organs ;  it  often  acted 
upon  men's  minds  and  aroused  them  from  their  deep  slumber, 
without  the  instrumentality  of  a  preacher. 

Luther's  writings  were  read  in  the  boroughs,  cities,  and 
hamlets;  even  the  village  schoolmaster  had  his  fire-side  audi- 
ence. Some  persons  in  each  locality,  impressed  with  what 
they  had  heard,  consulted  the  Bible  to  relieve  their  uncertainty, 
and  were  struck  with  the  marked  contrast  between  the  Chris- 
tianity of  Scripture  and  that  which  they  had  imbibed.  Fluc- 
tuating for  a  while  between  Romanism  and  Holy  Writ,  they 
ere  long  took  refuge  in  that  living  Word  which  had  beamed 
into  their  minds  with  such  new  and  cheering  lustre.  While 
these  changes  were  passing  in  their  minds,  an  evangelical 
preacher — he  might  be  a  priest,  or,  perhaps,  a  monk — would 
appear.  He  speaks  with  eloquence  and  authority,!  proclaim- 
ing that  Christ  has  fully  atoned  for  the  sins  of  his  people,  and 

*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Geschichte,  ii.  p.  70. 

t  Eaque  omnia  prorapte,  alacriter,  eloquentcr.     (Cochlseus,  p.  52.) 


112  THE    NEW    PREACHERS. 

proves  from  the  sacred  Word  the  vanity  of  human  works  and 
penance.  Such  preaching  excited  terrible  opposition;  the 
clergy,  in  numerous  instances,  aided  by  the  magistrates,  used 
every  effort  to  bring  back  those  whose  souls  were  escaping 
from  bondage.  But  there  was  in  the  new  preaching  an  ac- 
cordance with  Scripture,  and  a  secret,  but  irresistible  energy, 
which  won  the  heart  and  subdued  the  most  rebellious.  Risk- 
ing the  loss  of  property,  and,  if  needful,  the  loss  of  life  itself, 
men  deserted  the  barren  fanatical  preachers  of  the  Papacy, 
and  enrolled  themselves  under  the  Gospel  banner.*  Some- 
times the  people,  irritated  at  the  thought  how  long  they  had 
been  duped,  drove  away  the  priests;  but  more  frequently  these 
latter,  forsaken  by  their  flocks,  without  tithes  or  offerings, 
went  off,  with  desponding  hearts,  to  earn  a  livelihood  in  dis- 
tant places.!  Whilst  the  defenders  of  the  ancient  hierarchy 
withdrew  in  sullen  dejection,  pronouncing  maledictions  as  they 
took  leave  of  their  former  flocks, — the  people,  whom  truth 
and  liberty  filled  with  transports  of  joy,  surrounded  the  new 
preachers  with  acclamations,  and  in  their  eagerness  to  hear 
the  Word,  bore  them,  as  in  triumph,  into  the  churches  and 
pulpits.J 

A  word  of  Power  from  God  himself,  was  remoulding  so- 
ciety. In  many  instances,  the  people,  or  the  principal  citi- 
zens, wrote  to  a  man  whose  faith  they  knew,  urging  him  to 
come  and  instruct  them ;  and  he,  for  the  love  of  the  truth. 
Would,  at  their  call,  at  once  leave  his  worldly  interests,  his  fa- 
mily, friends,  and  country.^  Persecution  often  compelled  the 
favourers  of  the  Reformation  to  abandon  their  dwellings; 
— they  arrive  in  a  place  where  the  new  doctrines  have  never 
yet  been  heard  of;  they  find  there  some  hospitable  roof,  offer* 
ing  shelter  to  houseless  travellers ;  there  they  speak  of  the 

*  Populo  odibiles  catholici  concionatores.     (Cochlffius,  p.  52.) 

t  Ad  extremam  redact!  inopiam,  aliunde  sibi  victum  quaerere  coge- 
rentur.     (Ibid.  p.  53.) 

t  Triumphantibus  novis  praedicatoribus  qui  sequacem  populum  verbo 
novi  Evangelii  sui  ducebant.     (Ibid.) 

§  Multi,  omissa  re  dortitstica,  in  speciem  veri  Evangelii,  parentes  et 
amicos  relinquebant.     (Ibid.) 


POWER    OF    THE    SCRIPTURES.  113 

Gospel,  and  read  a  few  pages  to  the  listening  townsmen,  and 
perhaps,  by  the  intercession  of  their  new  acquaintances,  obtain 
leave  to  preach  a  sermon  in  the  church.  Immediately,  the. 
Word  spreads  like  fire  through  the  town,  and  no  eflbrts  can 
stay  Its  progress.*  If  not  permitted  to  preach  in  the  church, 
the  preaching  took  place  elsewhere,  and  every  place  became  a 
temple.  At  Husum  in  Holstcin,  Herman  Tast,  th(  n  on  his 
way  from  Witlemberg,  and  to  whom  the  parochial  clergy  de- 
nied the  use  of  the  church,  preached  to  an  immense  multitude, 
under  the  shade  of  two  large  trees  adjoining  the  churchyard, 
not  far  from  the  spot  where,  seven  centuries  before,  Anschar 
had  first  proclaimed  the  Gospel  to  a  Heathen  auditory.  At 
Armstadt,  Gaspard  Gittel,  an  Augustine  friar,  preached  in  ths 
market-place.  At  Dantzic,  the  Gospel  was  proclaimed  from 
an  eminence  outside  the  city.  At  Gosslar,  a  student  of  Wit- 
temberg  opened  the  new  doctrines,  in  a  plain  planted  with 
lime-trees,  from  which  circumstance  the  evangelical  Chris- 
tians there  obtained  the  appellation  of  The  Lijue-tree  Bre- 
thren. 

Whilst  the  Priests  were  exposing,  before  the  eyes  of  the 
people,  their  sordid  avidity,  the  new  preachers,  in  addressing 
thera,  said  :  "  Freely  we  have  received — freely  do  we  give."t 
The  observation  often  dropt  by  the  new  preachers  in  the  pul- 
pit, that  Rome  had  of  old  given  to  the  nations  a  corrupted 
Gospel,  so  that  Germany  now  first  heard  the  Word  of  Christ 
in  its  divine  and  primitive  beauty,  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  all  ;J  and  the  grand  thought  of  the  equality  of  all  men 
in  the  universal  brotherhood  of  Jesus  Christ,  elevated  the  souls 
which  had  so  long  borne  the  yoke  of  the  feudality  and  papacy 
of  the  middle  ages.^ 

Simple  Christians  were  often  seen  with  the  New  Testament 
in  hand,  ofTermg  to  justify  the  doctrine  of  the  Reformation. 

*  Ubi  vero  aliqHos  nacti  fuissent  amicos  in  ea  civitate  ....  (Coch- 
Iffius,  p.  54.) 

t  Mira  eis  erat  liberalitas.     (Ibid.) 

t  Earn  usque  diem  nunquam  germane  praedicatam.  (Cochlaeus,  p.  53.) 
§  Omnes  aequales  et  fratres  in  Christo.     (Ibid.) 
10* 


114  RELIGION    AND    LITERATURE. 

The  CatholicSj  who  adhered  to  Rome,  drew  back  in  dismay ; 
for  the  study  of  Holy  Scripture  was  reserved  to  the  priests  and 
monks  alone.  The  latter  being-  thus  compelled  to  come  for- 
ward, discussion  ensued  ;  but  the  priests  and  monks  were  soon 
overwhelmed  with  the  Scriptures  quoted  by  the  laity,  and  at 
a  loss  how  to  meet  them.*  "  Unhappily,"  says  Cochlseus, 
''  Luther  had  persuaded  his  followers  that  their  faith  ought 
only  to  be  given  to  the  oracles  of  Holy  Writ."  Often  clam- 
ours were  heard  in  the  crowd,  denouncing  the  shameful  ignor- 
ance of  the  old  theologians,  who  had  till  then  been  regarded 
by  their  own  party  as  among  the  most  eminently  learned. f 

Men  of  the  humblest  capacity,  and  even  the  weaker  sex,  by 
the  help  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Word,  persuaded,  and 
prevailed  with  many.  Extraordinary  times  produced  extraor- 
dinary actions.  At  Ingolstadt  a  young  weaver  read  the  works 
of  Luther  to  a  crowded  congregation,  in  the  very  place  where 
Doctor  Eck  was  residing.  The  university  council  of  the 
same  town^  having  resolved  to  oblige  a  disciple  of  Melancthon 
to  retract, — a  woman,  named  Argula  de  Staufen,  volunteered 
to  defend  him,  and  challenged  the  doctors  to  a  public  disputa- 
tion. Women,  children,  artizans,  and  soldiers,  had  acquired 
a  greater  knowledge  of  the  Bible  than  learned  doctors  or  sur- 
pliced  priests. 

Christianity  was  presented  in  two-fold  array,  and  under  as- 
pects strikingly  contrasted.  Opposed  to  the  old  defenders  of 
the  hierarchy,  who  had  neglected  the  acquirement  of  the  lan- 
guages and  the  cultivation  of  literature,  (we  have  it  on  the 
authority  of  one  of  themselves)  was  a  generous-minded  youth, 
most  of  them  devoted  to  study  and  the  investigation  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  acquainted  with  the  literary  treasures  of  an- 
tiquity. J  Gifted  with  quickness  of  apprehension,  elevation  of 
soul,  and  intrepidity  of  heart  these  youths  soon  attained  such 

*  A  laicis  lutheranis,  plures   scripturse   locos,  quam  a  monachis  et 

prsBsbyteris.     (Ibid.  p.  54.) 

t  Reputabantur  catholici  ab  illis  ignari  Scripturarum.     (Ibid.) 

?  Totain   vero  juventutem,   eloquentise  litteris,  linguarumque  studio 

deditam  ...  in  partem  suam  traxit.     (Cochlaeus.  p.  54.) 


THE     PRESS.  115 

proficiency  that  none  conld  compete  with  them.  It  was  not 
only  the  vigour  of  their  faith  which  raised  them  above  their 
contemporaries,  but  an  elegance  of  style,  a  perfume  of  antiquity, 
a  sound  philosophy,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  world,  of  which 
the  theologi;ms,  vettris  farincc  (as  Cochlseus  hitns^'lf  terms 
them)  were  altogether  destitute.  So  that  on  public  occasions, 
on  which  these  youthful  defenders  of  the  Reformation  encoun- 
tered the  Romish  doctors,  their  assault  was  carried  on  with  an 
ease  and  confidence  that  embarrassed  the  dulness  of  their  ad- 
versaries, and  exposed  them  before  all  to  deserved  contempt. 

The  ancient  structure  of  the  Church  was  thus  tottering  un- 
der the  weight  of  superstition  and  ignorance,  while  the  new 
edifice  was  rising  from  its  foundations  of  faith  and  learning". 
The  elements  of  a  new  life  were  diffused  among  the  general 
body  of  the  people.  Listless  dulness  was  everywhere  suc- 
ceeded by  an  mquiring  disposition  and  a  thirst  for  information. 
An  active  enlightened  and  living  faith,  took  the  place  of  super- 
stitious piety,  and  ascetic  meditations.  Works  of  true  devoted- 
ness,  superseded  mere  outward  observance  and  penances. 
The  pulpit  prevailed  over  the  mummeries  of  the  altar,  and 
the  ancient  and  supreme  authority  of  God's  word,  was  at 
length,  re-established  in  the  Church. 

The  art  of  printing,  that  mighty  engine,  the  discovery  of 
which  marks  the  fifteenth  century,  came  to  the  assistance  of  the 
efforts  we  are  now  recording  ;  and  its  weighty  missiles  were 
continually  discharged  against  the  enemy's  walls. 

The  impulse  which  the  Reformation  gave  to  popular  litera- 
ture, in  Germany,  was  prodigious.  Whilst  the  year  1513 
saw  only  thirty-five  publications,  and  1517  but  thirty-seven, 
the  number  of  books  increased  with  astonishing  rapidity  after 
the  appearance  of  Luther's  theses.  We  find,  in  1518,  sev- 
enty-one various  publications  recorded;  in  1519,  one  hundred 
and  eleven  ;  in  1520,  two  hundred  and  eight;  in  1521,  two 
hundred  and  eleven  ;  in  1522,  three  hundred  and  forty-seven; 
and  in  1523,  four  hundred  and  ninety-eight.  And  where 
were  all  these  books  published  ?  Almost  invariably  at  Wit- 
temberof.     And  who  was  the  author  of  them?     For  the  most 


116  SPREAD    OF    LTJTHEr's    WRITINGS. 

part,  Liither.  The  year  1522,  saw  one  hundred  and  thirty 
publications  from  the  pen  of  the  Reformer  alone;  and  the 
following  year,  one  hundred  and  eighty-three  ;  whilst  in  this 
latter  year,  the  total  number  of  Roman  Catholic  publications 
amounted  to  but  twenty.*  Thus,  the  literature  of  Germany 
was  formed  in  the  din  of  controversy^  as  its  religion  arose  in 
the  midit  of  conflicts.  Already  it  gave  evidence  of  that  learn- 
ed, profound,  bold,  and  stirring  spirit  that  latter  times  have 
seen  in  it.  The  genius  of  the  nation  now,  for  the  first  time, 
displayed  itself  without  mixture,  and  in  the  very  hour  of  its 
birth  it  received  a  baptism  of  fire  from  christian  enthusiasm. 
Whatever  Luther  and  his  friends  composed,  others  dissemi- 
nated far  and  wide.  Monks,  who  had  been  led  to  see  the  un- 
lawfulness of  the  monastic  obligations,  and  desirous  of  ex- 
changing a  life  of  indolence  for  one  of  activity,  but  too  ignorant 
to  be  able  themselves  to  proclaim  the  Word  of  God,  traversed 
the  provinces,  and,  visiting  the  hamlets  and  cottages,  sold  the 
writings  of  Luther  and  his  friends.  Germany  was,  ere  long, 
overrun  with  these  enterprising  colporteurs. f  Printers  and 
booksellers  eagerly  received  whatever  writings  were  directed 
to  the  defence  of  the  Reformation,  but  would  not  look  at  those 
of  the  opposite  party,  as  savouring  generally  of  ignorance  and 
barbarism. I  If  any  of  these  men,  however,  ventured  to  sell  a 
book  in  favour  of  Papacy,  or  to  offer  it  for  sale  at  Frankfort, 
or  elsewhere,  he  drew  upon  himself  a  torrent  of  ridicule  and, 
sarcasm  from  dealers,  publishers,  and  scholars.^  Vainly  had 
the  Emperor  and  the  reigning  princes  fulminated  severe 
edicts  against  the  writings  of  the  Reformers.  As  soon  as  an 
inquisitorial  visit  was  determined  on,  the  dealers,  (who  secretly 
obtained  information  of  it)  would  conceal  the  books  which  it 

*  Panzer's  Annalen  der  Deutsch  Litt. — Ranke's  Deutsch  Gesch. 
H.  p.  79. 

t  Apostatarum,  monasteriis  relictis,  infinitus  jam  erat  numerus,  in 
speciem  bibliopolarum.     (Cochlaeus,  p.  54.) 

X  Catholicorum,  vel  t  indocta  et  veteris  barbarici  trivialia  scripta, 
contemnebant.     (Cochlaeus,  p.  54.) 

§  In  publicis  mercatibus  Francofordiae  et  alibi,  vexabantur  ac  ridebun- 
tur.    (Ibid.) 


LUTHER    AT     ZWICKATT.  117 

was  intended  to  proscribe ;  and  the  people,  ever  eager  to  pos- 
sess that  of  which  authority  would  deprive  them,  would  after- 
wards buy  them  up,  and  read  them  with  redoubled  ardour. 
It  was  not  alone  Germany  that  was  the  theatre  of  such  inci- 
dents, the  writings  of  Luther  were  translated  into  French, 
Spanish,  English,  and  Italian,  and  were  circulated  among 
those  nations. 

If  instruments  so  despised  could  yet  inflict  such  disaster  on 
the  power  of  Rome,  what  was  it  when  the  monk  of  Wittem- 
berg  was  heard  to  raise  his  voice?  Shortly  after  the  discom- 
fiture of  the  strange  prophets,  Luther  traversed  the  territory 
of  Duke  George,  in  a  waggon,  attired  ia  plain  clothes.  His 
gown  was  carefully  concealed,  and  the  Reformer  wore  the 
disguise  of  a  countryman.  Had  he  been  recognised,  and  so 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  exasperated  Duke,  it  had,  perhaps, 
been  all  over  with  him.  He  was  on  his  way  to  preach  at 
Zwickau,  the  birth-place  of  the  pretended  prophets.  Scarcely 
was  it  known  at  Schneeberg,  Annaberg,  and  the  neighbouring 
towns,  when  numbers  flocked  to  hear  him.  Fourteen  thou- 
sand persons  arrived  in  the  town,  and  as  there  was  no  edifice 
which  could  contain  so  great  a  multitude,  Luther  preached 
from  the  balcony  of  the  Town-hall  to  twenty-five  thousand 
auditors,  who  thronged  the  market-place, — and  of  whom  se- 
veral had  climbed  to  the  top  of  some  stones  that  lay  heaped 
together  near  the  hall*  The  servant  of  Jesus  Christ  was  ex- 
patiating with  fervour  on  the  election  of  grace,  when  suddf^nly 
a  shriek  proceeded  from  the  midst  of  the  rivetted  auditory. 
An  old  woman  of  haggard  mien,  who  had  stationed  herself 
on  a  large  block  of  stones,  was  seen  motioning  with  her  lank 
arms  as  though  she  would  controul  the  multitude  just  about  to 
fall  prostrate  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Her  wild  yells  interrupted 
the  preacher.  "  It  was  the  devil,"  says  Seckendorf,  "  who 
took  the  form  of  an  old  woman,  in  order  to  excite  a  tumult"! 
But  vain  was  the  effort;  the  Reformer's  word  put  the  evil 

*  Von   dem   Rathhaus  unter  einem  Zulauf  von  25,000  Menschen. 
(Secb.  p.  539.) 
t  Der  Teufel  indem  er  sich  in  Gestalt  eines  alien  Weibes  . .  .  (Ibid.) 


118  DUKE    HENRY. 

spirit  to  silence;  an  enthusiasm  communicated  itself  from  one 
to  another,  looks  and  warm  greetings  were  exchanged,  the 
people  pressed  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  the  friars,  not 
knowing  what  to  make  of  what  they  saw,  and  unable  to  charm 
down  the  tempest,  soon  found  it  necessary  to  take  their  depar- 
ture from  Zwickau. 

In  the  Castle  of  Freyberg  resided  Duke  Henry,  brother  of 
Duke  George.  His  wife,  the  Princess  of  Mecklenburg,  had, 
the  preceding  year,  presented  him  with  a  son,  who  was  chris- 
tened Maurice.  Duke  Henry  united  the  bluntness  and  coarse 
manners  of  the  soldier  to  a  passion  for  the  pleasures  of  the 
table,  and  the  pursuits  of  dissipation.  He  was,  withal,  pious 
after  the  manner  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived ;  he  had  visited 
the  Holy  Land,  and  had  also  gone  on  pilgrimage  to  the  shrine 
of  St.  James  at  Compostella.  He  would  often  say,  "  When  I 
was  at  Compostella,  I  deposited  a  hundred  golden  florins  on 
the  altar  of  the  Saint,  and  I  said  to  him, — 'O  !  St.  James,  it 
is  to  gain  your  favour  I  have  made  this  journey.  I  make  you 
a  present  of  this  money  ;  but  if  those  knaves  (the  priests)  steal 
it  from  you,  I  can't  help  it;  so  take  you  care  of  it.'  "* 

Two  friars,  (a  Franciscan  and  a  Dominican)  disciples  of 
Luther,  had  been  for  some  time  preaching  the  Gospel  at  Frey- 
berg. The  Duchess,  whose  piety  had  inspired  her  with  a 
horror  of  heresy,  attended  their  sermons,  and  was  all  astonish- 
ment at  discovering  that  what  she  had  been  taught  so  much  to 
dread,  was  the  gracious  word  of  a  Saviour.  Gradually,  her 
eyes  were  opened  ;  and  she  found  peace  in  Jesus  Christ.  The 
moment  Duke  George  learned  that  the  Gospel  was  preached 
at  Freyberg,  he  begged  his  brother  to  resist  the  introduction 
of  such  novelties.  The  Chancellor  Stehelin  and  the  canons 
seconded  these  representations  with  their  fanatical  zeal.  A 
violent  explosion  took  place  at  the  court  of  Freyberg.  Duke 
Henry  sternly  reprimanded  and  reproached  his  wife,  and  more 
than  once  the  pious  Duchess  was  known  to  shed  tears  over  the 
cradle  of  her  babe.  By  slow  degrees,  however,  her  gentle 
entreaties  melted  the  heart  of  her  husband.  This  man,  so 
f  Lasst  du  dir's  die  Buben  nehmen  ....  (Ibid.  p.  430) 


IBACH    AT    ROME,  119 

Stern  by  nature,  softened  down.  A  sweet  harmony  was  estab- 
lished between  them  :  at  length,  they  were  enabled  to  join  in 
prayer  beside  their  infant  son.  Great  and  untold  d(^stinies 
hovered  above  that  son  ;  and  from  that  cradle,  where  the  chris- 
tian mother  had  so  often  poured  out  her  sorrows,  was  to  come 
forth  one  whom  God  in  his  own  time  would  use  as  a  defender 
of  the  Reformation. 

The  intrepidity  of  Luther  had  made  a  deep  impression  on 
the  inhabitants  of  Worms.  The  Imperial  Decree  overawed 
the  magistrates;  the  churches  were  all  closed;  but  a  preacher, 
taking  his  stand  on  a  rudely-constructtd  pulpit,  in  a  square 
thronged  with  an  immense  multitude,  proclaimed  the  glad 
tidings  with  persuasive  earnestness.  If  the  authorities  showed 
a  disposition  to  interfere,  the  people  dispersed  in  an  instant, 
hastily  carrying  off  their  pulpit ;  but  no  sooner  had  the  offi- 
cers of  authority  passed  by,  than  they  again  erected  their  pul- 
pit in  some  more  retired  spot,  to  which  the  multitude  would 
again  flock  together,  to  hear  more  of  the  Word  of  Jesus 
Christ.  This  temporary  pulpit  was  every  day  set  up  in  one 
spot  or  another,  and  served  as  a  rallying  point  for  the  people 
who  were  still  under  the  influence  of  the  emotions  awakened 
by  the  drama  lately  enacted  in  Worms.* 

At  Frankfort  on  the  Maine,  one  of  the  most  considerable 
free  cities  of  the  empire,  all  was  commotion.  A  courageous 
evangelist,  Ibach,  preached  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ.  The 
clergy,  among  whom  was  Cochleeus,  known  by  his  writings 
and  his  opposition  to  the  Reformation,  irritated  by  the  daring 
intrusion  of  such  a  colleague,  denounced  him  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Mentz,  The  Council,  though  with  some  timidity, 
nevertheless  supported  him  ;  but  without  avail.  The  clergy 
expelled  the  evangelical  minister,  and  obliged  him  to  quit 
Frankfort.  Rome  appeared  triumphant;  all  seemed  lost; 
and  private  Christians  began  to  fear  that  they  were  for  ever 
deprived  of  the  preaching  of  the  Word:  but  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  the  citizens  seemed  disposed  to  submit  to  the  ty- 

*  So  liessen  sic  -eine  Canzcl  machen,  die  man  von  einem  Ort  zum 
andern  .  .  ,  (Seek.  p.  436.) 


120  DIFFUSION    OF    THE    LIGHT. 

ranny  of  their  priests,  certain  nobles  suddenly  declared  them- 
selves for  the  Gospel.  Max  of  Molnheim,  Harmut  of  Cron- 
berg,  George  of  Stock  helm,  and  Emeric  of  Reiffenstein, 
whose  estates  lay  near  Frankfort,  wrote  to  the  Council: — 
"  We  are  constrained  to  make  a  stand  against  those  spiritual 
wolves."  And,  in  addressing  the  clergy,  they  said : — ''  Either 
embrace  evangelical  doctrines  and  recall  Ibach,  or  we  will 
pay  no  more  tithes." 

The  common  people,  who  listened  gladly  to  the  reformed 
opinions,  emboldened  by  this  language  of  the  nobles,  showed 
symptoms  of  agitation ;  and  one  day  when  Peter  Mayer,  the 
persecutor  of  Ibach,  and  who  of  all  the  priests  was  the  most 
hostile  to  the  new  opinions,  was  on  the  point  of  preaching 
against  heretics,  a  violent  tumult  broke  forth,  and  Mayer  in 
alarm  retreated  from  the  pulpit.  This  popular  movement 
decided  the  determination  of  the  Council.  An  ordinance  was 
published,  enjoining  all  ministers  to  preach  the  pure  Word  of 
God,  or  to  quit  the  town. 

The  light  which  shone  forth  from  Wittemberg,  as  from  the 
heart  of  the  nation,  was  thus  diffusing  itself  throughout  the 
empire.  In  the  west, — Berg,  Cleves,  Lippstadt,  Munster, 
Wesel,  Miltenberg,  Mentz,  Deux  Fonts,  and  Strasburg,  heard 
the  'joyful  sound.'  In  the  south, — Hof,  Schlesstadt,  Bam- 
berg, Esslingen,  Hall  (in  Suabia),  Heilbrunn,  Augsburg,  Ulm, 
and  many  other  places,  welcomed  it  with  joy.  In  the  east, — 
the  Duchy  of  Liegnitz,  Prussia  and  Pomerania,  received  it 
with  open  arms.  In  the  north, — Brunswick,  Halberstadt, 
Gosslar,  Zell,  Friesland,  Bremen,  Hamburg,  Holstein,  and 
even  Denmark,  and  other  adjacent  countries,  moved  at  the 
sounds  of  the  new  teaching. 

The  Elector  had  declared  that  he  would  give  full  liberty  to 
the  bishops  to  preach  in  his  dominions;  but  that  he  would  not 
deliver  any  one  into  their  hands.  Accordingly,  the  evangel- 
ical preachers,  persecuted  in  other  countries,  were  soon 
driven  to  take  refuge  in  Saxony.  Among  these  were — 
Ibach,  from  Frankfort,  Eberlin,  from  Ulm,  KanadorfT,  from 


UNIVERSITY    OF    WITTEMBERG.  121 

Magdeburg-,  Valentine  Musteus.*  whom  the  canons  of  Hal- 
"berstadt  had  horribly  mutilated,  and  other  faithful  ministers, 
from  all  parts  of  Germany,  flocked  to  Wittemberg,  as  to  the 
only  asylum  of  which  they  felt  secure.  Here  the)^  could  held 
converse  with  the  leading  Reformers,  thereby  strengthening 
themselves  in  the  fltith,  and  at  the  same  time  communicating 
the  experience  each  one  had  gained,  together  with  the  infor- 
mation he  had  acquired.  It  is  thus  that  the  waters  of  our 
rivers  return,  bornt  in  the  clouds  from  the  vast  expanse  of 
ocean,  to  feed  the  glaciers  whence  they  first  descended,  to  flow 
through  the  plain. 

The  work  which  was  at  this  time  developing  itself  at 
Wittemberg,  composed,  as  has  been  seen,  of  various  elements, 
became  from  day  to  day  increasingly  the  work  of  that  nation, 
of  Europe,  and  of  Christendom.  The  school  which  Frederic 
had  founded,  and  into  which  Luther  had  introduced  the 
Word  of  Life,  was  the  centre  of  that  wide-spreading  revolution 
which  regenerated  the  Church;  and  from  it  the  Reformation 
derived  a  true  and  a  living  unity,  far  above  the  semblance  of 
unity  that  might  be  seen  in  Rome.  The  Bible  was  the 
supreme  authority  at  Wittemberg,  and  there  its  doctrines  were 
heard  on  all  sides.  This  academy,  though  the  most  recent 
of  all  in  its  origin,  had  acquired  a  rank  and  influence  through- 
out Christendom  which  hitherto  had  exclusively  appertained 
to  the  ancient  University  of  Paris.  The  crowds  of  students 
which  resorted  to  Wittemberg,  from  all  partb  of  Europe, 
brought  thither  the  report  of  the  wants  of  the  Church  and  of 
the  people,  and  in  quitting  those  walls,  become  sacred  in  their 
esteem,  they  bore  v/ith  them,  to  the  Church  and  people,  that 
Word  of  Grace,  which  is  for  the  healing  and  salvation  of  the 
nations. 

In  contemplating  these  happy  results,  Luther  felt  his 
confidence   increased.     He  had   seen   a   feeble  effbrt,  begun 

*  Aliquot  ministri   canonicorum  capiunt  D.  Valentinum    Muslaeum 
et  vinctum  manibus  pedibusque,  injecto  in  ejus  os   freno,  deferunt  per 
trabes  in   inferiores   coenobii  partes,    ibique   in   eel  la  cerevisiaria  eum 
castrant.     (Hamelmann,   Hist,  rcnati  Evangelii,  p.  880.) 
VOL.    III.  11 


122  PRINCIPLE    OF    THE    REFORMATION. 

amidst  so  many  fears  and  struggles,  change  the  face  of  the 
christian  world ;  and  he  himself  was  astonished  at  a  result 
which  he  never  anticipated  when  he  first  entered  the  lists 
against  Tetzel.  Prostrate  before  the  God  whom  he  adored, 
he  confessed  that  the  work  was  His ;  and  he  rejoiced  in  the 
assurance  of  victory  which  no  power  could  prevent.  '•  Our 
enemies  threaten  us  with  death,"  said  he,  to  the  Chevalier 
Harmut  of  Cronberg — "if  their  wisdom  were  equal  to  their 
folly,  it  is  with  life  they  would  threaten  us.  What  an  absurd- 
ity and  insult  it  is  to  affect  to  denounce  death  against  Christ 
and  Christians,  who  are  themselves  the  conquerojs  of  death  !* 
It  is  as  if  I  would  seek  to  affright  a  rider  by  saddling  his 
courser,  and  helping  him  to  mount.  Do  they  not  know  that 
Christ  is  raised  from  the  dead  ?  So  far  as  they  see,  He  is  yet 
lying  in  the  grave,  nay — even  in  hell.  But  we  know  that  He 
lives."  He  was  grieved  whenever  he  thought  that  and  one 
should  look  upon  him  as  the  author  of  a  work,  of  which  the 
most  minute  details  disclosed  to  him  the  finger  of  God.  "  Some 
there  are,"  said  he,  "  who  believe  because  /  believe.  But 
they  only  truly  believe,  who  would  continue  faithful  even 
though  they  should  hear  (which  may  God  forbid !)  that  I  had 
denied  Christ.  True  disciples  believe — not  in  Luther — but 
in  Jesus  Christ.  Even  I  myself  care  little  for  Luther.f  Let 
him  be  counted  a  saint  or  a  cheat,  what  care  I  ?  It  is  not  him 
that  I  preach ;  it  is  Christ.  If  the  devil  can  seize  Luther,  let  him 
do  so !  But  let  Christ  abide  with  us,  and  we  shall  abide  also." 
Surely  it  is  idle  to  explain  such  a  principle  as  here  speaks 
out,  by  the  mere  circumstances  of  human  affairs.  Men  of 
letters  might  sharpen  their  wits,  and  shoot  their  poisoned  ar- 
rows against  pope  and  friars — the  gathering  cry  for  freedom, 
which  Germany  had  so  often  sent  forth  against  Italian  tyranny, 
might  again  echo  in  the  castles  and  provinces  ; — the  people 
might  again  delight  in  the  familiar  voice  of  the  Wittemberg 
nightingale:}:  heralding  the  spring  that  was  everywhere  burst- 

*  Herren  und  Siogmanner  des  Todes.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  164.) 
t  Ich  kenne  auch  selbst  nicht  den  Luther.     (Ibid.) 
1   Wiltemlerger  NachiigaU,  poem  of  Hans  Sachs,  1523. 


TRANSITION    STATE    OF    THE    CHURCH.  123 

ing  forth ; — but  it  was  no  change  in  mere  outward  circum- 
stances, like  such  as  is  the  effect  of  a  craving  for  earthly- 
liberty,  that  was  then  accomplishing.  Those  who  assert  that 
the  Reformation  was  brought  about  by  bribing  the  reigning 
princes  with  the  prospect  of  convent  treasure, — the  clergy, 
with  the  licence  of  marriage, — or  the  people  with  the  boon 
of  freedom,  are  strangely  mistaken  in  its  nature.  Doubtless, 
a  profitable  use  of  resources  which  hitherto  had  maintained 
the  monks  in  idleness, — doubtless,  marriage  and  libertj'-,  God's 
gifts,  might  conduce  to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation, — but 
the  moving  power  was  not  in  these  things.  An  interior  revo- 
lution was  going  on  in  the  deep  privacy  of  men's  hearts : 
Christians  were  again  learning  to  love  and  to  forgive,  to  pray, 
to  suffer  affliction,  and,  if  need  be,  to  die  for  the  sake  of  that 
Truth  which  yet  held  out  no  prospect  of  rest  on  this  side 
heaven  !  The  Church  was  in  a  state  of  transition.  Christian- 
ity was  bursting  the  shroud  in  which  it  had  so  long  been 
veiled,  and  resuming  its  place  in  a  world  which  had  well  nigh 
forgotten  its  former  power.  He  who  made  the  earth,  now 
*  turned  his  hand,'  and  the  Gospel, — emerging  from  eclipse, — 
went  forward,  notwithstanding  the  repeated  efforts  of  priests 
and  of  kings, — like  the  Ocean,  which,  when  the  hand  of  God 
presses  on  its  bosom,  rises  in  majestic  calmness  along  its 
chores,  so  that  no  power  of  man  is  able  to  resist  its  movement. 


BOOK    X. 


The  Reformation,  which  had  taken  its  rise  in  a  few  pious 
hearts,  had  worked  its  way  into  the  public  worship  and  the 
private  life  of  the  Church  ;  it  was  to  be  expected  that  it  would, 
as  it  advanced,  penetrate  into  civil  relationships.  Its  progress 
was  constantly,  from  within, — outward.  We  are  about  to 
contemplate  this  great  change  taking  possession  of  the  political 
life  of  nations. 

For  a  period  of  nearly  eight  centuries,  Europe  had  formed 
one  vast  sacerdotal  state.  Its  emperors  and  kings  had  been 
under  the  patronage  of  its  popes.  If  France  and  Germany 
had  affbided  examples  of  energetic  resistance  to  audacious 
pretensions,  still,  Rome,  in  the  result,  had  prevailed,  and  the 
world  had  seen  temporal  princes,  consenting  to  act  as  execu- 
tioners of  her  terrible  sentences,  contend  in  defence  of  her 
power  against  private  Christians  living  under  their  rule,  and 
shed,  in  her  cause,  the  blood  of  the  children  of  their  people. 

No  infringement  of  this  vast  ecclesiastical  polity  but  must 
affect,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  established  political  rela- 
tions. 

Two  leading  desires  then  agitated  the  minds  of  the  Ger- 
mans. On  one  hand,  the  people  aspired  after  a  revival  of  the 
faith  ;  on  the  other,  they  demanded  a  national  government 
wherein  the  German  states  might  be  represented,  and  which 
should  serve  as  a  counterpoise  to  the  Imperial  power.* 

*  Pfeffel  Droit  publ.  de  I'Allemagne,  590.— Robertson.   Charles  Y. 
vol.  ill.  p.  114. — -Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch. 


MOVEMENT  IN  GERMANY.  125 

The  Elector  Frederic  had  urged  this  demand  at  the  time 
of  the  election  of  Maximilian's  successor,  and  the  youthful 
Charles  had  consented.  A  national  government  had,  in  con- 
sequence, been  chosen,  consisting  of  the  Imperial  chief  and 
representatives  of  the  various  electors  and  circles. 

Thus  while  Luther  was  reforming  the  Church,  Frederic 
was  engaged  in  reforming  the  State. 

But  when,  simultaneously  with  a  change  in  religion,  im- 
portant modifications  of  political  relationships  were  introduced 
by  the  authorities,  it  was  to  be  apprehended  that  the  common- 
alty would  exhibit  a  disposition  to  revolt, — thereby  bringing 
into  jeopardy  the  Reformation  both  of  Church  and  of  State. 

This  violent  and  fanatical  irruption  of  the  people,  under 
certain  chosen  leaders,  unavoidable  where  society  is  in  a  state 
of  crisis, — did  not  fail  to  happen  in  the  times  we  are  recording. 

Other  circumstances  there  were  which  tended  to  these  dis* 
orders. 

The  Emperor  and  the  Pope  had  combined  against  the  Re- 
formation, and  it  might  appear  to  be  doomed  to  fall  beneath 
the  strokes  of  such  powerful  enemies.  Policy — interest-— 
ambition  obliged  Charles  V,  and  Leo  X.  to  extirpate  it.  But 
such  motives  are  feeble  defences  against  the  power  of  Truth. 
A  devoted  assertion  of  a  cause  deemed  sacred  can  be  con- 
quered only  by  a  like  devotedness  opposed  to  it.  But  the 
Romans,  quick  to  catch  Leo's  enthusiasm  for  a  sonnet  or  a 
musical  composition,  had  no  pulse  to  beat  response  to  the  re- 
ligion of  Jesus  Christ :  or,  if  at  times  some  graver  thoughts 
would  intervene,  instead  of  their  being  such  as  might  purify 
their  hearts,  and  imbue  them  with  the  Christianity  of  the 
apostles,  they  turned  upon  alliances,  or  conquests,  or  treaties 
that  added  new  provinces  to  the  Papal  states ;  and  Rome, 
with  cold  disdain,  left  to  the  Reformation  to  awaken  on  all 
sides  a  religious  enthusiasm,  and  to  go  forward  in  triumphant 
progress  to  new  victories.  The  foe  that  she  had  sworn  to 
crush,  in  the  church  of  Worms,  was  before  her  in  the  confi- 
dence of  courage  and  strength.  The  contest  must  be  sharp: 
blood  must  flow. 

U* 


125        WAR    BETWEEN    FRANCIS    I.    AND    CHARLES    V. 

Nevertheless  some  of  the  dangers  that  threatened  the  Refor- 
mation seemed,  just  th^n,  to  be  less  pressing.  The  youthful 
Charles,  standing  one  day,  a  little  before  the  publication  of 
the  tdict  of  IVorms,  in  a  window  of  his  palace  in  conversation 
with  his  conf  ssor,  had,  it  is  true,  said  wiih  emphasis,  laying 
his  hand  upon  his  heart,  "  I  swear  that  I  will  hang  up  before 
this  window  the  first  man  who,  after  the  publication  of  ray 
edict,  shall  declare  himself  a  Lutheran"*  But  it  was  not 
long  before  his  zeal  cooled.  His  plan  for  restoring  the  an- 
cient glory  of  the  empire,  or,  in  other  words,  enlarging  his 
own  dominions,  was  coldly  received  ;t  and  taking  umbrage 
Avith  his  German  subjects,  he  passed  the  Rhine,  and  retired  to 
the  Low  Countries,  availing  himself  of  his  sojourn  there,  to 
afford  the  friars  some  gratifications  that  he  found  himself  un- 
able to  give  them  in  the  empire.  At  Ghent,  Luther's  writings 
were  burned  by  the  public  executioner  with  the  utmost  solem- 
nity. More  than  fifty  thousand  spectators  attended  this  auto- 
da-fe,  and  the  presence  of  the  Emperor  himself,  marked  his 
approval  of  the  proceedings.;}: 

Just  at  this  time,  Francis  the  First,  who  eagerly  sought  a 
pretext  for  attacking  his  rival,  had  thrown  down  the  gauntlet. 
Under  pretence  of  re-establishing  in  their  patrimony  the  chil- 
dren of  John  of  Albret,  king  of  Navarre,  he  had  commenced 
a  bloody  contest,  destined  to  last  all  his  life  :•— sending  an  army 
to  invade  that  kingdom,  under  command  of  Lesparra,  who 
rapidly  pushed  his  victorious  advance  to  the  gates  of  Pam- 
peluna. 

On  the  walls  of  this  fortress  was  to  be  enkindled  an  enthu- 
siasm which,  in  after  years,  should  withstand  the  aggressive 
enthusiasm  of  the  Reformer,  and  breathe  through  the  Papal 

*  Sancte  juro eum  ex  hac  fenestra  meo  jussu  suspensum  iri. 

(Pallavicini,  i.  p.  130.) 

t  Essendo  tomato  dalla  Dieta  che  sua  Maesta  haveva  fatta  in 
Wormatia,  escluso  d'ogni  conclusion  buona  d'ajuti  e  di  favori  che  si 
fussi  proposto  d'ottenere  in  essa.  (Instruttione  al  card.  Farnese.  Manu- 
script of  the  Bibl.  Corsini,  published  by  Ranke.) 

i  Ipso  Cjesare,  ore  subridenti,  spectaculo  plausit.  (Pallavicini,  i. 
p.  130.) 


INIGO  LOPEZ  DE  RECALDE.  127 

system  a  new  energy  of  devoted ness  and  control.  Pampeluna 
was  to  he  the  cradle  of  a  rival  to  the  Wiiteriiberg  monk. 

Th-^  spirit  of  chivalry,  which  had  so  Jong  reigned  in  the 
Chris'  -m  world,  still  survived  in  Spain.  The  wars  with  the 
Mooi6,  recently  terminated  in  that  Ptninsula,  but  continually 
recurring  in  Africa — and  distant  and  adventurous  expeditions 
beyond  sea,  kept  alive  in  the  Castiiian  youth  the  enthusiastic 
and  simple  valour  of  which  Amadis  had  been  the  ideal  ex- 
hibition. 

Among  the  garrison  of  Pampeluna  was  a  young  mian  named 
Don  Inigo  Lopez  de  Recalde,  the  youngest  of  a  family  of 
thirteen.  Recalde  had  been  brought  up  at  the  court  of  Fer- 
dinand the  Catholic.  Remarkable  for  a  fine  person,*  and 
expert  in  the  use  of  sword  and  lance,  he  was  ardently  am- 
bitious of  chivalrous  renown.  Clothed  in  d;izzling  armour. 
and  mounted  on  a  prancing  steed,  he  took  delight  in  exposing 
himself  to  the  glittering  d.mgers  of  the  tournament.f  engaging 
in  hazaidous  enterprizes,  taking  part  in  the  impassioned  strug- 
gles of  opposing  factions, {  and  manifesting  as  much  devotion 
to  St.  Peter  as  to  his  lady-love.  Such  was  the  life  led  by  the 
young  knight. 

The  governor  of  Navarre,  having  gone  into  Spain  to  ob- 
tain succours,  had  left  to  Inigo  and  a  few  nobles  the  charge  of 
defending  Pampeluna.  These  latter,  learning  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  French  troops,  decided  on  retiring.  Inigo  en- 
treated them  to  stand  firm  and  resist  Lesparra ;  but,  not  being 
able  to  prevail  on  them,  he  indignantly  reproached  them  with 
their  cowardice  and  perfidy,  and  then  threw  himself  into  the 
citadel,  resolved  to  defend  it  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  life.^ 

When  the  French,  who  had  been  received  with  enthusiasm 
in  Pampeluna,  proposed  to  the  commandant  of  the  fortress  to 

*  Cum  esset  in  corporis  ornatu  elegantissiraus.  (Maffei,  Vita  Loyolse, 
1586,  p.  3.) 

t  Eqnorumque  et  armorum  usu  pvaecelleret.     (Ibid  ) 

t  Partim  in  factionum  rixarumque  periculis,  partim  in  amatoria 
vesania  .  .  .  tempus  consumeret.  (Maffsei,  Vita  Loyolae,  1586,  p.  3.) 

§  Ardentibus  oculis,  detpstatus  ignaviam  perfidiamque  spectantibus 
omnibus,  in  arcem  solus  introit.     (Ibid.  p.  6.) 


128  SIEGE    OF    PAMPELUNA. 

capitulate,  "  Let  us  endure  everything,"*  boldly  exclaimed 
InigOj  "rather  than  surrender!"  On  this  the  French  began 
to  batter  the  walls  with  their  formidable  artillery,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  attempted  to  storm  it.  The  bravery  and  ex- 
hortations of  Inigo  gave  fresh  courage  to  the  Spaniards  ;  they 
drove  back  the  assailants  by  their  arrows,  swords,  or  halberds. 
Inigo  led  them  on.  Taking  his  stand  on  the  ramparts,  with 
eyes  flaming  with  rage,  the  young  knight  brandished  his 
sword,  and  felled  the  assailants  to  the  earth.  Suddenly  a  ball 
struck  the  wall,  just  where  he  stood;  a  stone  shivered  from 
the  ramparts,  wounded  the  knight  severely  in  the  right  leg, 
at  the  same  moment  as  the  ball,  rebounding  from  the  violence 
of  the  shock,  broke  his  left.  Inigo  fell  senseless. f  The  gar- 
rison immediately  surrendered;  and  the  French,  admiring 
the  courage  of  their  youthful  adversary,  bore  him  in  a  litter 
to  his  relatives  in  the  castle  of  Loyola.  In  this  lordly  man- 
sion, from  which  his  name  was  afterwards  derived,  Inigo  had 
been  born  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious  families  of  that  country, 
eight  years  after  the  birth  of  Luther. 

A  painful  operation  became  necessary.  In  the  most  acute 
suffering,  Inigo  firmly  clenched  his  hands  but  uttered  no  com- 
plaint/]: 

Constrained  to  a  repose  which  he  could  ill  endure,  he  found 
it  needful  to  employ,  in  some  way,  his  ardent  imagination. 
In  the  absence  of  the  romances  which  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  devour,  they  gave  him  the  Life  of  Christ,  and  the  Flores 
Sanctorum.  The  reading  of  these  works,  in  his  state  of 
solitude  and  sickness,  produced  an  extraordinary  effect  upon 
his  mind.  The  stirring  life  of  tournaments  and  battles,  which 
had  occupied  his  youth,  to  the  exclusion  of  every  thing  beside, 
seemed  as  if  receding  and  fading  from  view,  while  a  career 
of  brighter  glory  appeared  to  open  before  him.  The  humble 
labours  of  the  saints,  and  their  heroic  patience  were,  all  of  a 

*  Tarn   acri  ac  vehementi  oratione  commilitonibus  dissuasit.     (Maf. 

Vita  Loyolse,  1586,  p.  6.) 

t  Ut  e  vestigio  semianimis  alienata  mente  corruerit.     (Ibid.  p.  l.^ 
t  Nullum  aliud  indicium   dedit  doloris,  nisi  ut  coactus  in  pugnuin 

digilos  valde  constringeret.     (Ibid.  p.  8.) 


LOYOLA  S    ARMED    VIGIL.  120 

sudden,  seen  to  be  far  more  worthy  of  praise  than  all  the  high 
deeds  of  chivalry.  Stretched  upon  his  couch,  and  still  under 
the  efiects  of  fever,  he  indulo-ed  in  the  most  conflicting: 
thoughts.  The  world  he  was  planning  to  renounce,  and  that 
life  of  holy  mortification  which  he  contemplated,  both  appear- 
ed before  him — the  one  soliciting  by  its  pleasures,  the  other 
by  its  severities ; — and  fearful  was  the  struggle  in  his  con- 
science between  these  two  opposing  worlds.  "  What,"  thought 
he,  "  if  I  were  to  act  like  St.  Francis  or  St.  Dominic?"*  But 
the  recollection  of  the  lady  to  whom  he  had  pledged  his  love 
recurred  to  his  mind.  "  She  is  neither  countess  nor  duchess," 
said  he  to  himself,  with  a  kind  of  simple  vanity,  "  she  is  much 
more  than  either."!  But  thoughts  like  these  were  sure  to  fill 
him  with  distress  and  impatience,  while  the  idea  of  imitating 
the  example  of  the  saints  caused  his  heart  to  overflow  with 
peace  and  joy. 

From  this  period  his  resolution  w-as  taken.  Scarcely  had 
he  risen  from  his  sick-bed,  when  he  decided  to  retire  from  the 
world.  As  Luther  had  done,  he  once  more  invited  to  a 
repast  his  companions  in  arms ;  and  then,  without  divulging 
his  design,  set  out,  unattended, 'I  for  the  lonely  cells  excavated 
by  the  Benedictine  monks,  in  the  rocks  of  the  mountains  of 
Monfserrat.  Impelled,  not  by  the  sense  of  his  sin,  or  of  his 
need  of  the  grace  of  God,  but  by  the  wish  to  become  "knight 
of  the  Virgin  Mary,"  and  to  be  renowned  for  mortifications 
and  works,  after  the  example  of  tlie  army  of  saints, — he 
confessed  for 'three  successive  days,  gave  away  his  costly 
attire  to  a  mendicant,^  clothed  himself  in  sackcloth,  and  girded 
himself  with  a  ropp.  Then,  calling  to  mind  the  armed  vigil 
of  Amadis  of  Gaul,  he  suspended  his  sword  at  the  shrine  of 
Mary,  passed  the  night  in  watching,  in  his  new  and  strange 

*  Gluid  si  ego  hoc  agcrem  quod  fecit  b.  Franciscus,  quid  si  hoc  quod 
b.  Dominicus  1     (Acta  Sanctorum,  vii.  p.  634.) 

t  Non  era  condessa,  ni  duquessa,  mas  era  su  estado  mas  alto  .  .  (lb.) 

X  Ibi  duce  amicisque  ita  salutatis,  ut  arcana  consilioruni  suorum  quam 
accura-tissime  tetrpret.     (Maf.  p.  IG.) 

§  Pretiosa  vestimenta  quibus  erat  ornatus,  pannoso  cuidam  largitus 
gacco  sese  alacer  induit  ac  func  prsecinxit.     (lliid.  p.  20.) 


130  ENTERS    A    DOMINICIAN    CONVENT. 

costume ;  and  sometimes  on  his  knees,  and  then  standing,  but 
ever  absorbed  in  prayer,  and  with  his  pilgrim's  staff"  in  hand, 
went  through  all  the  devout  practices  of  which  the  illustrious 
Amadis  had  set  the  example.  "  Thus,"  remarks  the  Jesuit, 
Maffei,  one  of  the  biographers  of  the  saint,  '-while  Satan  was 
stirring  up  Martin  Luther  to  rebellion  against  all  laws,  divine 
and  human,  and  whilst  that  heretic  stood  up  at  Worms, 
declaring  impious  war  against  the  Apostolic  See,  Christ,  by 
his  heavenly  providence,  called  forth  this  new  champion,  and 
binding  him  by  after  vows  to  obedience  to  the  Roman  Pontiff^ 
opposed  him  to  the  licentiousness  and  fury  of  heretical  per- 
versity."* 

Loyola,  who  was  sfill  lame  in  one  of  his  legs,  journeyed 
slowly  by  circuitous  and  secluded  paths  till  he  arrived  at 
Manrcsa.  There  he  entered  a  convent  of  Dominicans,  resolv- 
ing in  this  retired  spot  to  give  himself  up  to  the  most  rigid 
penances.  Like  Luther,  he  daily  went  from  door  to  door  beg- 
ging his  bread. t  Seven  hours  he  was  on  his  knees,  and 
thrice  everyday  did  he  flagellate  himself  Again  at  midnight 
he  was  accustomed  to  rise  and  pray.  He  allowed  his  hair 
and  nails  to  grow;  and  it  would  have  been  hard,  indeed,  to 
recognise  in  the  pale  and  lank  visage  of  the  monk  of  Manresa, 
the  young  and  brilliant  knight  of  Pampeluna. 

Yet  the  moment  had  arrived  when  the  ideas  of  religion, 
which  hitherto  had  been  to  Inigo  little  more  than  a  form  of 
chivalric  devotion,  were  to  reveal  themselves  to  him  as  having 
an  importance,  and  exercising  a  power  of  which,  till  then,  he 
had  been  entirely  unconscious.  Suddenly,  without  any  thing 
that  might  give  intimation  of  an  approaching  change  of  feel- 
ing, the  joy  he  had  experienced  left  him.^  In  vain  did  he 
have  recourse  to  prayer  and  chaunting  psalms ;  he  rould  not 
rest.§    His  imagination  ceased  to  present  nothing bu  pleasing 

*  Furori  ac  libidini  haereticfe  pravitatis  opponeret.     (Maf  p.  21.) 

t  Victum  osteatim  precibus,  iniimis  emendicare  quotidie.     (lb.  p.  23.) 

i  Tunc  subito  nulla  prajcedente  significatione  prorsus  exui  nudarique 

Be  omni  gaudio  sentiret.     (Ibid.  p.  27.) 

§  Nee  jam  in  precibu.s,    nequc  in  psalinis  .....  ullam  inveniret  t|e^ 

Ipctationera  aut  rckjui.em.     (Ibid.^ 


MENTAL    DISTRESS.  131 

illusions. — he  was  almie  icitk  his  conscience.  He  did  not 
know  what  to  make  of  a  state  of  feeling  so  new  to  him ;  and 
he  shuddered  as  he  asked  whether  God  could  still  be  against 
him,  after  all  the  sacrifices  he  had  made.  Day  and  night, 
gloomy  terrors  disturbed  him. — bitter  were  the  tears  he  shed, 
and  urgent  was  his  cry  for  that  peace  which  he  had  lost — but 
all  in  vain.*  He  again  ran  over  the  long  confession  he  had 
made  at  Montserrat.  "  Possibly,"  thought  he,  "  I  may  have 
forgotten  something."  But  that  confession  did  but  aggravate 
his  distress  of  heart,  for  it  revived  the  thought  of  former 
transgressions.  He  wandered  about,  melancholy  and  dejected, 
his  conscience  accusing  him  of  having,  all  his  life,  done 
nought  but  heap  sin  upon  sin,  and  the  wretched  man — a  prey 
to  overwhelming  terrors — filled  the  cloisters  with  the  sound 
of  his  sighs. 

Strange  thoughts,  at  this  crisis,  found  access  to  his  heart. 
Obtaining  no  relief  in  the  confessional,  and  the  various  ordi- 
nances of  the  Church, t  he  began,  as  Luther  had  done,  to 
doubt  their  efficacy.  But,  instead  of  turning  from  man's 
works,  and  seeking  to  the  finished  work  of  Christ, — he  con- 
sidered whether  he  should  not  once  more  plunge  into  the  vani- 
ties of  the  age.  His  soul  panted  eagerly  for  that  world  that 
he  had  solemnly  renounced  \\  but  instantly  he  recoiled,  awe- 
struck. 

And  was  there,  at  this  moment,  any  difference  between  the 
monk  of  Manresa  and  the  monk  of  Erfurth?  Doubtless,  in 
secondary  points;  but  their  condition  of  soul  was  alike.  Both 
were  deeply  sensible  of  their  sins;  both  sought  peace  with 
God,  and  desired  to  have  the  assurance  of  it  in  their  hearts. 
If  another  Staupitz,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  had  presented 
himself  at  the  convent  of  Manresa,  perhaps  Inigo  might  have 
been  knoAvn  to  us  as  the  Luther  of  the  Peninsula.  These  two 
remarkable  men  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  founders  of  two 

*  Vaids  agitari  terroribus,  dies  noctesque  fletibus  jungere.      (Maf. 

p.  28.) 
t  Tit  nulla  jam  res  mitigare  dolorem  posse  vidcretur.     (Ibid.  p.  29.) 
J  Et  ssecuii  commodis  repetendis  magno  quodam  impetu  cogitaverit. 

(Ibid.  p.  30.) 


132  "  STRONG     DELUSIONS." 

opposing  spiritual  empires,  which,  for  three  centuries,  have 
warred  one  against  the  other,  were,  at  this  period,  brothers; 
and,  perhaps,  if  they  had  been  thrown  together,  Luther  and 
Loyola  would  have  rushed  into  each  other's  embrace,  and 
mingled  their  tears  and  their  prayers. 

But,  from  this  moment,  the  two  monks  were  to  take  oppo- 
site courses. 

Inigo,  instead  of  regarding  his  remorse  as  sent  to  urge  him 
to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  deluded  himself  with  the  belief  that 
his  inward  compunctions  were  not  from  God,  but  the  mere 
suggestions  of  the  devil ;  and  he  resolved  not  to  think  any 
longer  of  his  sins,  but  to  obliterate  them  for  ever  from  his  me- 
mory!* Luther  looked  to  Christ — Loyola  did  but  turn  in- 
ward on  himself 

It  was  not  long  before  visionary  attestations  came  in  confir- 
mation of  Inigo's  self-imposed  convictions.  His  own  resolu- 
tions had  been  to  him  in  place  of  the  Lord's  grace,  and  he  had 
suffered  the  irnagim^tions  of  his  own  heart  to  take  the  place 
of  God's  word.  He  had  counted  the  voice  of  God,  speaking 
to  him  in  his  conscience,  as  the  voice  of  the  devil ;  and  hence, 
we  see  him,  in  the  remainder  of  his  history,  the  dupe  of  delu- 
sions of  the  power  of  darkness. 

One  day,  Loyola  chanced  to  meet  an  old  woman ;  as  Lu- 
ther, when  his  soul  was  under  trial  and  exercise,  had  received 
a  visit  from  an  old  man.  But  the  Spanish  crone,  instead  of 
testifying  of  Remission  of  Sins  to  the  penitent  of  Manresa, 
predicted  certain  appearances  of  Jesus.  This  was  the  sort  of 
Christianity  to  which  Loyola,  like  the  prophets  of  Zwickau, 
had  recourse.  Inigo  did  not  seek  truth  from  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, but  invented  in  their  place  certain  direct  communications 
•from  the  world  of  spirits.  He  soon  passed  his  whole  time 
absorbed  in  extacy  and  abstraction. 

Once,  when  on  his  way  to  the  church  of  St.  Paul,  outside 
the  city,  he  followed,  lost  in  thought,  the  course  of  the  Llobre- 
gat,  and  stopped,  for  a  moment,  to  seat  himself  on  its  bank. 

*  Sine  uUa  dubitatione  constituit  prseteritse  \itse  labcs  perpetua 
oblivione  conterere.     (Maf.  p.  31.) 


133 

He  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  river  which  rolled  its  deep  waters  in 
silence  before  him.  He  soon  lost  all  consciousness  of  sur- 
rounding objects.  Of  a  sudden,  he  fell  into  an  extacy.  Things 
were  revealed  to  his  sight,  such  as  ordinary  men  comprehend 
only  after  much  reading  and  long  watching,  and  study.*  He 
rose  from  his  seat.  As  he  stood  by  the  bank  of  the  river,  he 
seemed  to  himself  a  new  man.  He  proceeded  to  throw  him- 
self on  his  knees  before  a  crucifix  erected  near  the  spot,  de- 
cided to  devote  his  life  in  service  to  that  cause,  the  mysteries 
of  which  had  just  been  revealed  to  his  soul. 

From  this  time,  his  visions  were  more  frequent.  Sitting 
one  day  on  the  steps  of  St.  Dominic,  at  Manresa,  singing 
hymns  to  the  Virgin,  his  thoughts  were  all  of  a  sudden  ar- 
rested, and,  wrapt  in  extacy  of  motionless  abstraction,  while 
the  mystery  of  the  Holy  Trinityf  was  revealed  before  his 
vision,  under  symbols  of  glory  and  magnificence.  His  tears 
flowed — his  bosom  heaved  with  sobs  of  emotion,  and  all  that 
day  he  never  ceased  speaking  of  that  ineffiible  vision. 

Such  repeated  apparitions  had  overcome  and  dissipated  all 
his  doubts.  He  believed,  not  as  Luther,  because  the  things 
of  Faith  were  written  in  the  Word  of  God, — but  because  of 
the  visions  he  himself  had  had.  "  Even  though  no  Bible  had 
existed,"!  say  his  apologists,  "even  though  those  mysteries 
should  never  have  been  revealed  in  Scripture,  he  would  have 
believed  them,  for  God  had  disclosed  Himself  to  him."^  Lu- 
ther, become  a  doctor  of  divinity,  had  pledged  his  oath  to  the 
sacred  Scriptures — and  the  alone  infallible  rule  of  God's  word 
was  become  the  fimdamental  principle  of  the  Reformation. 
Loyola,  at  the  time  we  are  recording,  bound  himself  to  dreams, 
and  apparitions; — and  visionary  delusions  became  the  mov- 
ing principles  of  his  life,  and  the  grounds  of  his  confidence. 

Luther's  sojourn  in  the  convent  of  Erfurth,  and  that  of 
Loyola  at  Manresa  explain  to  us  the  principle  of  the  Refor- 

*  duae  vix  demum  solent  homines  intelligentia  comprehendere. 
(Maf.  p.  32.) 

t  En  figuras  de  tres  techis. 

t  Ctuod  etsi  nulla  scriptura,  mysteria  ilia  fidei  doceret.  (Acta  Sanct.) 

§  Cluae  Deo  sibi  apericnte  cognoverat.     (Maf.  p.  34.) 
VOL.    III.  12 


134  AMUSEMENTS    OF    THE    POPE. 

mation,  and  the  character  of  modern  Popery.  We  will  not 
follow, — in  his  journey  to  Jerusalem,  whither  he  repaired  on 
leaving  the  convent, — the  monk  who  was  to  be  a  means  of 
re-animating  the  expiring  power  of  Rome.  We  shall  meet 
with  him  again  in  the  further  progress  of  this  history. 

Whilst  these  things  were  passing  in  Spain,  Rome  herself 
appeared  to  wear  a  graver  aspect.  The  great  patron  of  music, 
hunting,  and  feasting  was  removed  from  the  throne  of  the  Pon- 
tiff, and  succeeded  by  a  pious  and  grave  monk. 

Leo  X.  had  been  greatly  pleased  by  the  intelligence  of  the 
edict  of  Worms,  and  of  Luther's  captivity;  and  in  sign  of  his 
triumph  had  caused  the  Reformer  to  be  publicly  burnt  in 
effigy,  together  with  his  writings.*  It  was  the  second  or 
third  time  that  the  Papacy  had  indulged  itself  in  this  harmless 
satisfaction.  At  the  same  time,  Leo,  to  show  his  gratitude  to 
the  Emperor,  united  his  army  with  the  Imperial  forces.  The 
French  were  compelled  to  evacuate  Parma,  Placentia,  and 
Milan ;  and  Cardinal  Giulio  de  Medici,  cousin  to  the  Pope, 
made  a  public  entry  into  the  latter  city.  The  Pope  appeared 
on  the  point  of  attaining  the  summit  of  human  greatness. 

The  winter  of  the  year  1521  was  just  commencing.  It  was 
customary  with  Leo  X.  to  spend  the  autumn  in  the  country. 
At  that  season,  he  would  leave  Rome  without  surplice,  and 
also,  what,  remarks  his  master  of  the  ceremonies,  was  a  yet 
greater  impropriety,  wearing  boots !  At  Viterbo,  he  would 
amuse  himself  with  hawking;  at  Corneto,  he  hunted;  the 
lake  of  Bolsena  afforded  him  the  pleasures  of  fishing.  Leav- 
ing these,  he  would  pass  some  time  at  his  favourite  reside  nee, 
Malliana,  in  a  round  of  festivities.  Musicians,  improvisator!, 
and  other  Roman  artists,  whose  talents  might  add  to  the  charms 
of  this  delightful  villa,  there  gathered  round  the  Sovereign 
Pontiff  He  was  residing  there,  when  news  was  brought  him 
of  the  taking  of  Milan.  A  tumult  of  joy  ensued  in  the  town. 
The  courtiers  and  officers  could  not  contain  their  exultation  ; 

♦  Comburi  jussit  alteram  vultus  in  ejus  statua,  alteram  animi  ejus  in 
libris,     (Pallavicini,  i.  p.  128.) 


DEATH    OF    LEO    X.  135 

the  Swiss  discharged  their  carbines,  and  Leo  incautiously- 
passed  the  night  in  walking  backward  and  forward  in  his 
chamber,  and  looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  rejoicings  of 
the  people.  He  returned  to  Rome,  exhausted  in  body,  and 
in  the  intoxication  of  success.  Scarcely  had  he  re-entered  the 
Vatican,  when  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill.  "  Pray  for  me," 
said  he  to  his  attendants.  He  had  not  even  time  to  receive  the 
last  sacraments,  and  died,  in  the  prime  of  life,  at  the  age  of 
forty-seven — in  a  moment  of  victory,  and  amid  the  sounds  of 
public  joy. 

The  crowd  that  followed  the  hearse  of  the  Sovereign  Pon- 
tiff gave  utterance  to  curses.  They  could  not  pardon  his 
having  died  without  the  sacraments, — leaving  behind  him  the 
debts  incurred  by  his  vast  expenditure.  "  Thou  didst  win  the 
pontificate  like  a  fox — heldst  it  like  a  lion — and  hast  left  it 
like  a  dog,"  said  the  Romans. 

Such  was  the  mourning  with  which  Rome  honoured  the 
Pope  who  excommunicated  the  Reformation  ;  and  one  whose 
nam.e  yet  serves  to  designate  a  remarkable  period  in  history. 

Meanwhile  a  feeble  reaction  against  the  temper  of  Leo  and 
of  Rome  was  already  beginning  in  Rome  itself  A  few  men 
of  piety  had  opened  a  place  of  prayer  in  order  to  mutual  edifi- 
cation,— not  far  from  the  spot  in  which  tradition  reports  the 
first  Christians  of  Rome  to  have  held  their  meetings.*  Con- 
tarini,  who  had  been  present  on  Luther's  appearance  at 
Worms,  took  the  lead  in  these  little  meetings.  Thus,  almost 
at  the  same  time  as  at  Wittemberg,  a  kind  of  movement  to- 
ward a  reformation  manifested  itself  at  Rome.  Truly  has  it 
been  remarked,  that  wherever  there  are  the  seeds  of '  love  to 
God,'  there  are  also  the  germs  of  reformation.  But  these 
well-meant  efforts  were  soon  to  come  to  nothing. 

In  other  times,  the  choice  of  a  successor  to  Leo  X.  would 
surely  have  falh^n  upon  a  Gregory  VH.  or  an  Innocent  III., 
if  men  like  them  had  been  to  be  found  ;  but  now  the  Imperial 

*  Si  unirono  in  un  oratorio,  chiamato  del  divino  amore,  circa  sessanta 
di  loro.    (Caracciolo  Vita  da  Paolo  IV.  MSC.  Ranke.) 


136  CHARACTER    OF    ADRIAN    VI. 

interest  was  stronger  than  that  of  the  Church,  and  Charles  V. 
required  a  Pope  who  should  be  devoted  to  his  interests. 

The  Cardinal  de  Medici,  afterwards  Clement  VII.,  seeing 
that  he  had  no  chance  of  obtaining  the  tiara,  exclaimed  aloud 
— "  Choose  the  Cardinal  Tortosa,  an  old  man  whom  every- 
one regards  as  a  saint."  The  result  was,  that  this  prelate, 
who  was  a  native  of  Utrecht,  and  of  humble  birth,  was  actu- 
ally chosen,  and  reigned  under  the  name  of  Adrian  VI.  He 
had  been  professor  at  Louvain,  and  afterwards  tutor  to  Charles. 
In  1517,  through  the  Emperor's  influence,  he  had  been  in- 
vested with  the  Roman  purple.  Cardinal  de  Vio  supported 
his  nomination.  "  Adrian,"  said  he,  "  was  very  useful  in  per- 
suading the  doctors  of  Louvain  to  put  forth  their  condemna- 
tion of  Luther."*  The  conclave,  tired  out  and  taken  by  sur- 
prise, nominated  the  ultramontane  Cardinal.  "  But  soon 
coming  to  their  senses,"  observes  an  old  chronicler,  "  they 
were  ready  to  die  with  fear  of  the  consequences."  The  thought 
that  the  native  of  the  Netherlands  might  not  accept  of  the 
tiara,  brought  them  temporary  relief;  but  it  was  soon  dissi- 
pated. Pasquin  represented  the  elect  PontiflJ' under  the  char- 
acter of  a  schoolmaster,  and  the  Cardinals  as  boys  under  the 
discipline  of  the  rod.  The  irritation  of  the  populace  was  such 
that  the  members  of  the  conclave  thought  themselves  fortunate 
to  escape  being  thrown  into  the  river.f  In  Holland,  it  was  a 
subject  of  general  rejoicing  that  they  had  given  a  head  to  the 
Church.  Inscribed  on  banners,  suspended  from  the  houses, 
were  the  words,  "  Utrecht  planted — Louvain  watered — the 
Emperor  gave  the  increase."  One  added  underneath,  the 
words, — "  and  God  had  nothing  to  do  with  it!" 

Notwithstanding  the  dissatisfaction  which  was  at  first  mani- 
fested by  the  inhabitants  of  Rome,  Adrian  VI.  repaired  thither 
in  August,  1522,  and  was  weU  received.  It  w^as  whispered 
from  one  to  another  that  he  had  five  thousand  benefices  in  his 
gift,  and  each  reckoned  on  some  advantage  to  himself     For 

*  Doctores  Lovanienses  accepisse  consilium  a  tarn  conspicup  aJumAa. 
(Pallavicini,  p.  136.) 
t  Sleidan.  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  i   p.  124. 


THE     POPE    ATTEMPTS    A    REFORMATION.  137 

a  long  time,  the  Papal  chair  had  not  been  filled  by  such  a 
man.  He  was  upright,  industrious,  learned,  pious,  sincere, 
irreproachable  in  morals,  and  neither  misled  by  favouritism, 
nor  blinded  by  passion.  He  brought  with  him  to  the  Vatican, 
his  old  house-keeper,  whom  he  charged  to  continue  to  provide 
frugally  for  his  daily  wants  in  that  palace  which  Leo  had 
filled  with  luxury  and  dissipation.  He  was  a  stranger  to  the 
tastes  of  his  predecessor.  When  they  showed  him  the  noble 
group  of  Laocoon,  discovered  only  a  few  years  before,  and 
purchased  by  Julius  II.  at  an  enormous  cost — he  turned  awaj^, 
coolly  observing,  "  They  are  the  idols  of  the  heathen  :"  and 
in  one  of  his  letters,  he  wrote,  "  I  would  far  rather  serve  God 
in  my  priory  at  Louvain,  than  be  pope  at  Rome." 

Adrian,  alarmed  by  the  danger  to  which  the  religion,  which 
had  come  down  to  them  through  the  middle  ages,  was  ex- 
posed from  the  spread  of  the  Reformation  ;  and  not,  like  the 
Italians,  fearing  the  discredit  into  which  Rome  and  her  hier- 
archy Avere  brought  by  it, — earnestly  desired  to  oppose  and 
arrest  its  progress  ;  and  he  judged  that  the  best  means  to  that 
end  was  to  be  found  in  a  reformation  of  the  Church  by  her- 
self "  The  Church,"  said  he,  "  stands  in  need  of  a  reforma- 
tion; but  we  must  take  one  step  at  a  time."  "  The  Pope," 
said  Luther,  "  advises  that  a  few  centuries  should  be  permitted 
to  intervene  between  the  first  and  the  second  step."  In  truth, 
the  Church  had  for  ages  tended  toward  a  reformation.  It  was 
now  no  time  for  temporising.     It  was  necessary  to  act ! 

Adhering  to  his  plan,  Adrian  set  about  banishing  from  the 
city  the  profane,  the  perjurers,  and  the  usurers.  It  was  no 
easy  task,  for  they  composed  a  considerable  proportion  of  the 
population. 

At  first  the  Romans  derided  him,  but  ere  long  they  hated 
him.  Priestly  rule  and  the  vast  gains  it  brought,  the  power, 
and  influence  of  Rome,  its  games  and  its  festivals,  the  luxury 
that  everywhere  reigned  in  it,  all  would  be  irretrievably  lost, 
if  there  were  a  return  to  apostolic  simplicity. 

The  restoration  of  discipline  everywhere  encountered  strong 
opposition.     "  To  produce  the  desired  effect,"  said  the  chief 

12* 


IS8  OPPOSITION    AT    ROME. 

Cardinal  Penitentiaria,  "  it  would  be  necessary  to  begin  by- 
reviving  the  'first  love'  of  Christians:  the  remedy  is  more 
than  the  patient  can  bear ;  it  will  be  death  to  him.  Take 
caie,  lest  in  your  desire  to  preserve  Germany  you  should 
lose  Italy."*  And,  indeed,  it  was  not  long  before  Adrian  had 
even  more  to  fear  from  Romanism  than  Lutheranism  itself 

Those  about  him  attempted  to  lead  him  back  to  the  path  he 
had  abandoned.  The  old  and  practised  Cardinal  Soderinus 
of  Volterra,  the  intimate  friend  of  Alexander  VI.,  of  Julius  II., 
and  of  Leo  X.,t  would  often  drop  expressions  well  suited  to 
prepare  him  for  that  part,  to  him  so  strange,  which  he  was 
reserved  to  act.  "  Heretics,"  observed  he,  "  have,  in  all  ages, 
declaimed  against  the  morals  of  the  Roman  Court;  and  yet 
the  Popes  have  never  changed  them.  It  has  never  been  by 
reforms  that  heresies  have  been  extinguished,  but  by  crusades." 
"  Oh,  how  wretched  is  the  position  of  the  Popes,"  replied  the 
Pontiff^  sighing  deeply,  "  since  they  have  not  even  liberty  to 
do  right."t 

On  the  23d  March,  1522,  and  before  Adrian's  entry  into 
Rome,  the  Diet  assembled  at  Nuremberg.  Already  the 
bishops  of  Mersburg  and  Misnia  had  petitioned  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  to  allow  a  visitation  of  the  convents  and  churches 
in  his  states.  Frederic,  thinking  that  truth  had  nothing  to 
fear,  had  consented,  and  the  v.oiiation  took  place.  The  bish- 
ops and  doctors  preached  vehemently  against  the  new  opin- 
ions, exhorting,  alarming,  and  entreating,  but  their  arguments 
seemed  to  have  no  effect ;  and  when  looking  about  them  for 
more  effectual  methods,  they  requested  the  secular  authorities 
to  carry  their  directions  into  execution,  the  Elector's  council 
returned  for  answer,  that  the  question  was  one  that  required 
to  be  examined  by  the  Word  of  God,  and  that  the  Elector,  at 
his  advanced  age,  could  not  engage  in  theological  investiga- 
tion.    These   expedients   of  the  bishops  did  not  reclaim  a 

*  Sarpi  Histoire  du  Concile  de  Trente,  p.  20. 

t  Per  longa   esperienza  delle  cose    del    mundo,    molto    prudente  o 
accorto.     (Nardi.  Hist.  Fior.,  lib.  7.) 
X  Sarpi  Hist,  du  Cone,  de  Tr.,  p.  21. 


DESIGNS    AGAINST    LUTHER.  139 

single  soul  to  the  fold  of  Rome;  and  Luther,  who  passed 
over  the  same  ground,  shortly  afterwards,  preaching  from 
place  to  place,  dispelled,  by  his  powerful  exhortation,  the 
slight  impression  that  had  here  and  there  been  produced. 

It  was  to  be  feared  that  the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  brother  to 
the  Emperor,  would  do  what  Frederic  had  declined  doing. 
That  young  prince,  who  presided  at  several  sittings  of  the 
Diet,  gradually  acquiring  decision  of  purpose,  might,  m  his 
zeal,  boldly  unsheathe  the  sword  that  his  more  prudent  and 
politic  brother  wisely  left  in  the  scabbard.  In  fact,  Ferdinand, 
in  his  hereditary  states  of  Austria,  had  already  commenced  a 
cruel  persecution  against  those  who  were  favourable  to  the 
Reformation.  But  God,  on  various  occasions,  made  instru- 
mental, in  the  deliverance  of  reviving  Christianity,  the  very 
same  agency  that  had  been  employed  for  the  destruction  of 
corrupt  Christianity.  The  Crescent  suddenly  appeared  in  the 
panic-struck  provinces  of  Hungary.  On  the  9th  of  August, 
aft'^r  a  siege  of  six  weeks,  Belgrade,  the  advanced  post  of  that 
kingdom,  and  of  the  empire,  was  taken  by  assault  by  Soliman. 
The  followers  of  Mahomet,  after  retiring  from  Spain,  seemed 
intent  on  re-entering  Europe  from  the  East.  The  Diet  of 
Nuremberg  turned  its  attention  from  the  Monk  of  Worms  to 
the  Sultan  of  Constantinople.  But  Charles  V.  kept  both 
antagonists  in  view.  In  writing  to  the  Pope  from  Valladolid, 
on  the  3  J  St  October,  he  said,  ''  We  must  arrest  the  progress  of 
the  Turks, — and  punish  by  the  sword,  all  who  favour  the 
pestilent  doctrines  of  Luther."* 

It  was  not  long  before  the  thunder  clouds  which  had  seemed 
to  pass  by  and  roll  eastward,  again  gathered  over  the  Reform- 
er. His  re-appearance  and  activity  at  Wittemberg  had  revived 
the  by-gone  hatred.  "  Now  that  we  know  where  to  lay 
haj  Is  on  him,"  said  Duke  George,  "  why  not  carry  into 
effect  the  sentence  of  Worms?"  It  was  confidently  affirmed  in 
Germany,  that  Charles  V.  and  Adrian  had  in  a  meeting  at 

*  Das  man  die  Nachfolger  derselben  vergiften  Lehre,  mil  dem 
Schwert  strafen  mag.    (L.  0pp.  xvii.  p.  321.) 


140  DIET    OF    NUREMBERG. 

Nuremberg  concerted  the  measures  to  be  adopted.*  "Satan 
feels  the  wound  that  has  been  inflicted  on  him,"  said  Luther, 
•'  and  thence  his  rage.  But  Christ  has  already  put  forth  his 
power,  and  will  ere  long  trample  him  under  foot,  in  spite  of 
the  gates  of  hell."  t 

In  the  month  of  December,  1522,  the  Diet  again  assembled 
at  Nuremberg.  Everything  announced  that,  as  Soliman  had 
been  the  great  enemy  that  had  fixed  attention  in  the  spring 
session,  Luther  would  be  its  principal  object  during  the  winter 
sittings.  Adrian  VI.,  by  birth  a  German,  hoped  to  find  that 
favour  from  his  own  nation  which  a  Pope  of  Italian  origin 
could  not  expect.|  He,  in  consequence,  commissioned  Chie- 
regati,  whom  he  had  known  in  Spain,  to  repair  to  Nurem- 
berg. At  the  opening  of  the  Diet,  several  of  the  princes 
spoke  strongly  against  Luther.  The  Cardinal  Archbishop 
of  Salzburg,  who  was  high  in  the  confidence  of  the  Emperor, 
urged  the  adoption  of  prompt  and  vigorous  measures,  before 
the  arrival  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  The  Elector  Joachim 
of  Brandenburg,  inflexible  in  his  purpose,  and  the  Chancellor 
of  Treves,  jointly  insisted  that  the  edict  of  Worms  should  be 
carried  into  effect.  The  rest  of  the  princes  were  in  great  pait 
undecided,  and  divided  in  opinion.  The  dilemma  in  which 
the  church  was  placed,  filled  its  faithful  adherents  with 
anguish.  "  I  would  give  one  of  my  fingers,"  exclaimed  the 
Bishop  of  Strasburg,  in  open  assembly  of  the  Diet,  "I  would 
give  one  of  my  fingers  to  be  no  priest."^ 

Chieiegati,  supported  by  the  Cardinal  of  Salzburg,  insisted 
that  Luther  should  be  put  to  death.  "  It  is  necessary,"  said 
he,  speaking  in  the  Pope's  name,  and  holding  the  Pope's 
brief  in  his  hand,  "  It  is  indispensable  that  we  should  sever 
fi-om  the  body  that  gangrened  member. ||     Your  forefathers 

♦  Cumfama  sit  fortis  et  Ceesarem  et  Papam  Nurnbergam  convcnturos, 

(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  214.) 
t  Sed  Christus  qui  coepit  conteret  eum.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  21.5.) 
X  Cluod  ex  ea  regione  venirent,  unde  nobis  secundum  camera  origo 

est.     (See  the  Pope's  brief  L.  0pp.  lat.  ii.  p.  352.) 

§  Er  woUte  einen  Finger  drum  geben,     (Seek,  p,  568.) 

II  Resecandos  uti  membra  jam  putrida  a  sano  corpora.    (Pall.  1.  158. 


OSIANDER    AT     NUREMBERG.  141 

punished  with  death  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague,  at 
Constance,  but  both  tliese  are  now  risen  up  in  Luther.  Follow 
the  glorious  example  of  your  ancestors,  and  by  the  help  of 
God,  and  of  St.  Peter,  gain  a  signal  victory  over  this  serpent 
of  hell." 

On  hearing  the  brief  of  the  pious  and  mild  Adrian  read  in 
the  assembly,  the  majority  of  the  princes  were  not  a  little 
alarmed.*  Many  began  to  see  more  in  Luther's  arguments  ; 
and  they  had  hoped  better  things  from  the  Pope.  Thus  then 
Rome,  though  under  the  presidency  of  an  Adrian,  cannot  be 
brought  to  acknowledge  her  delinquency,  but  still  hurls  her 
thunderbolts,  and  the  fields  of  Germany  are  again  about  to  be 
deluged  with  blood.  Whilst  the  princes  maintained  a  gloomy 
silence,  the  prelates,  and  such  members  of  the  Diet  as  were 
in  the  interest  of  Rome,  tumultuously  urged  the  adoption  of  a 
decision.  "  Let  him  be  put  to  death,"t  cried  they, — as  we 
learn  from  the  Saxon  envoy  who  was  present  at  this  sitting. 

Very  different  were  the  sounds  heard  in  the  churches  of 
Nuremberg.  The  chapel  of  the  hospital,  and  the  churches 
of  the  Augustines,  St.  Sebald  and  St.  Lorenzo,  were  crowded 
with  multitudes  flocking  to  hear  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel. 
Andrew  Osiander  preached  powerfully  at  St.  Lorenzo's. 
Many  princes  attended,  especially  Albert,  Margrave  of  Bran- 
denburg, who,  in  his  quality  of  Grand  Master  of  the  Teuto- 
nic order,  took  rank  immediately  next  to  the  archbishops. 
Monks,  abandoning  the  religious  houses  in  the  city,  applied 
themselves  to  learn  various  trades,  in  order  to  gain  their  live- 
lihood by  their  labour. 

Chieregati  could  not  endure  such  daring  disobedience.  He 
insisted  that  the  priests  and  refractory  monks  should  be  im- 
prisoned. The  Diet,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of 
the  ambassadors  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  and  the  Margrave 
Casimir,  decided  to  seize  the  persons  of  the  monks,  but  con- 
sented to  communicate  previously  to  Osiander  and  his  col- 

*  Einen  grossen  Schrecken  eingejagt.     (Seek.  p.  552.) 
t  Nicht   anders   geschrieu  denn:     Crucijige!    Crucijlgel     (L.  0pp. 
xviii.  p.  367.) 


142  THE    pope's    CANDOt'R. 

leagues  the  Nuncio's  complaint.  A  committee,  under  the 
direction  of  the  fanatical  Cardinal  of  Salzburg,  was  charged 
with  the  matter.  The  danger  was  immint  nt — the  conflict 
was  on  the  point  of  commencing,  and  it  was  the  great  Coun- 
cil of  the  nation  that  provoked  it. 

Yet  the  people  interposed.  Whilst  the  Diet  was  engaged 
in  deliberating  what  should  be  done  with  these  ministers,  the 
town  council  was  considering  w^hat  steps  should  be  taken  in 
regard  to  the  decision  of  the  Diet.  The  council  came  to  a 
resolution  which  did  not  overstep  the  limits  assigned  to  it  by 
the  laws, — that  if  force  were  employed  to  deprive  them  of 
their  preachers,  recourse  should  be  had  to  force  to  set  them 
at  liberty.  Such  a  resolution  was  full  of  significance.  The 
astonished  Diet  returned  an  answer  to  the  Nuncio  that  it  was 
not  lawful  to  arrest  the  preachers  of  the  free  city  of  Nurem- 
berg without  previously  convicting  them  of  heresy. 

Chieregati  was  strangely  disconcerted  by  this  fresh  insult  to 
the  supreme  authority  of  the  Papacy. — "Very  well,"  said  he, 
haughtily,  addressing  himself  to  Ferdinand,  "do  you  then  do 
nothing, — leave  me  to  act, — I  will  seize  the  preachers  in  the 
Pope's  name."*  When  the  Cardinal- Archbishop  Albert  of 
Mentz,  and  the  Margrave  Casimir  were  apprized  of  this  start- 
ling determination,  they  came  in  haste  to  the  Legate,  implor- 
ing him  to  abandon  his  intention.  The  latter  was,  at  first, 
inflexible,  affirming  that,  in  the  bosom  of  Christendom,  obe- 
dience to  the  Pope  could  not  be  dispensed  with.  The  two 
Princes  retired : — '-If  you  persist  in  your  intention,"  said  they, 
"  we  require  you  to  send  us  notice,  for  we  will  quit  the  city 
before  you  venture  to  lay  hands  on  the  preachers."!  The  Le- 
gate abandoned  his  project. 

Despairing  of  success  by  authoritative  measures,  he  now 
decided  to  have  recourse  to  expedients  of  another  kind,  and, 
with  this  purpose,  communicated  to  the  Diet  the  Pontiff's  in- 
tentions and  orders,  which  he  had  hitherto  kept  private. 

*  Sese  auctoritate  pontifica  curaturum  ut  isti  caperentur.  (Corp. 
Ref.  i.  p.  606.) 

t  Priusquajn  illi  caperentur,  se  urbe  cessurosesse.     (Ibid.) 


HESOLUTiON    Of    TttK    DIET.  143 

But  the  well-intentioned  Adrian,  little  used  to  the  ways  of 
the  world,  did  injury  even  by  his  candour  to  the  cause  he  had 
at  heart.  "  We  are  well  aware,"  said  he,  in  the  '  resolutions' 
forwarded  to  his  Legate,  "that  for  many  years  past,  the  holy 
city  has  been  a  scene  of  many  corruptions  and  abominations.* 
The  infection  has  spread  from  the  head  through  the  members, 
and  has  descended  from  the  Popes  to  the  rest  of  the  clergy. 
It  is  our  desire  to  reform  that  court  of  Rome,  whence  so  many 
evils  are  seen  to  flow, — the  whole  world  desires  it,  and  it  is 
in  order  that  we  may  do  this,  that  we  consented  to  ascend  the 
throne  of  the  pontiffs." 

The  supporters  of  Rome  blushed  to  hear  these  unlooked- 
for  words.  "They  thought,"  as  Pallavicini  says,  "that  such 
admissions  were  too  sincere."!  The  friends  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, on  the  contrary,  rejoiced  to  hear  Rome  herself  pro- 
claiming her  corruption.  Who  could  doubt  that  Luther  had 
truth  on  his  side,  now  that  the  Pope  declared  it ! 

The  answer  of  the  Diet  shewed  how  greatly  the  authority 
of  the  chief  Pontiff  had  lost  ground  in  the  Empire.  Lather's 
spirit  seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  the  hearts  of  the 
nation's  representatives  The  moment  was  auspicious. — 
Adrian's  ear  seemed  open, — the  Emperor  was  at  a  distance  ; — 
the  Diet  resolved  to  enumerate  in  one  document  the  various 
wrongs  that  Germany  had  for  centuries  endured  from  Rome, 
and  to  address  their  memorial  to  the  Pope. 

The  Legate  vi^as  alarmed  at  this  determination.  He  used 
threats  and  entreaties,  but  both  were  unavailing.  The  secular 
states  adhered  to  their  purpose,  and  the  ecclesiastical  did  not 
venture  to  offer  opposition.  Eighty  grievances  were  there- 
fore set  forth.  The  corruption  and  arts  of  the  Popes  and  of 
the  court  of  Rome,  in  order  to  squeeze  revenue  from  Ger- 
many,— the  scandals  and  profanations  of  the  clerical  orders, — 

*  In  earn  sedem  aliquot  jam  annos  qusedam  vitia  irrepsisse,  abusus 
in  rebus  sacris,  in  Icgibus  violationes,  in  cunctis  denique  perversionem. 
(Pallav.  i.  p.  IGO.     See  also  Sarpi,  p.  25.     L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  329,  &c.) 

t  Liberioris  tcunen  quam  par  erat,  sinceritatis  fuisse  visum  est,  ea 
conventui  patefacere.     (Ibid.  p.  162.) 


144  GRIEVANCES. 

the  disorders  and  simony  of  the  ecclesiastical  courts, — the  en- 
croachments on  the  civil  power  to  the  restriction  of  liberty  of 
conscience,  were  detailed  with  equal  freedom  and  force.  The 
States  distinctly  intimated  that  traditions  of  men  were  the 
source  of  all  this  abuse,  and  they  ended  by  saying, — "  If  these 
grievances  are  not  redressed  within  a  limited  time,  we  will 
coiiSult  together,  and  seek  some  other  means  of  deliverance 
from  our  sufferings  and  our  wrongs."*  Chieregati,  having  a 
presentiment  that  the  report  the  Diet  would  prepare  would  be 
couched  in  strong  language,  hastily  took  his  departure  from 
Nuremberg,  thus  avoiding  being  himself  the  bearer  of  so  dis- 
appointing and  insolent  a  communication. 

After  all,  was  it  not  still  to  be  feared  that  the  Diet  vi'ould 
endeavour  to  make  some  amends  for  this  bold  measure,  by 
the  sacrifice  of  Luther  himself?  At  first,  there  were  some 
apprehensions  of  such  a  policy. — but  a  spirit  of  justice  and 
sincerity  had  been  breathed  on  the  assembly.  Following  the 
example  of  Luther,  it  demanded  the  convocation  of  a  free 
Council  in  the  Empire,  and  decreed  that  until  such  Council 
should  assemble,  nothing  should  be  preached  but  the  simple 
Gospel,  and  nothing  put  forth  in  print,  without  the  sanction  of 
a  certain  number  of  men  of  character  and  learning. f  These 
resolutions  afford  us  some  means  of  estimating  the  vast  advance 
the  Reformation  had  made  since  the  Diet  of  Worms, — and 
yet  the  Saxon  envoy,  the  knight  Frelitsch,  recorded  a  formal 
protest  against  the  censorship  prescribed  by  the  Diet,  moderate 
as  that  censorship  might  seem.  The  decree  of  the  Diet  was  a 
first  victory  gained  by  the  Reformation,  which  was  the  pres- 
sage  of  future  triumphs.  Even  the  Swiss,  in  the  depths  of 
their  mountains,  shared  in  the  general  exultation.  "  The  Ro- 
man Pontiff  has  been  defeated  in  Germany  !"  said  Zwingle ; 
"Ail  that  remains  to  be  done  is  to  deprive  him  of  his  armour. 
It  is   for  this  that  we  must  now  fight,  and  the  battle  will  be 

*  Wie  sie  solcher  Beschwerung  und  Drangsaal  entladen  werden. 
(L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  354.) 

t  Ut  pie  placideque  purura  Evangelium  praedicaretur.  (Pal.  i.  p. 
166.  Sleiden,  i.  p.  135.) 


THE    POPE    TO    THE    ELECTOR.  145 

fiercer  than  before.  But  we  have  Christ  present  with  us  in 
the  conflict."*  Luther  loudly  affirmed  that  the  edict  the 
Princes  had  put  forth  was  by  inspiration  of  God  himself  f 

Great  was  the  indignation  at  the  Vatican  among  the  Pope's 
conncil.  "What!  it  is  not  enough  to  have  to  bear  with  a 
Pope  who  disappoints  the  expectation  of  the  Romans,  in 
whose  palace  no  sound  of  song  or  amusement  is  ever  heard, 
but,  in  addition  to  this,  secular  princes  are  to  be  suffered  to 
hold  a  language  that  Rome  abhors,  and  refuse  to  deliver  up 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg  to  the  executioner !" 

Adrian  himself  was  indignant  at  the  events  in  Germany, 
and  it  was  on  the  head  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  that  he  now 
poured  out  his  anger.  Never  had  the  Roman  Pontiffs  ut- 
tered a  cry  of  alarm  more  energetic,  more  sincere,  or  more 
affecting. 

"  We  have  waited  long — perhaps  too  long,"  said  the  pious 
Adrian,  in  his  brief  addressed  to  the  Elector:  "  It  was  our 
desire  to  see  whether  God  would  visit  thy  soul,  so  that  thou 
mighlest  at  the  last  be  del  ^ered  from  the  snares  of  the  devil. 
But  where  we  had  hoped  to  gather  grapes  there  have  we 
found  nothing  but  wild  grapes.  The  Spirit's  promptings  have 
been  despised ;  thy  wickedness  has  not  been  subdued.  Open 
then  thine  eyes  to  behold  the  greatness  of  thy  fall ! 

"  If  the  unity  of  the  Church  is  gone — if  the  simple  have 
been  turned  out  of  the  way  of  that  faith  which  they  had  suck- 
ed from  their  mothers'  breasts — if  the  churches  are  deserted — 
if  the  people  are  without  priests,  and  the  priests  have  not  the 
honour  due  to  them, — if  christians  are  without  Christ,  to 
whom  is  it  owing  but  to  thee?]:  ....  If  christian  peace  has 
forsaken  the  earth — if,  oa  every  side,  discord,  rebellion,  pil- 
lage, violence,  and  midnight  conflagrations  prevail — if  the 

*  Victus  est  ac  ferme  profligatus  e  Germania  romanus  pontifex.  (Zwr. 

Epp.  313.  nth  Oct.  1523.) 
t  Gott  habe  solches  E.  G.  eingeben.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  476.) 
t  Dass  die  Kirchen  ohne  Volk  sind,   dass  die  Volker  ohne  Priester 

Bind,  das9  die  Priester  ohne  Ehre  sind,  uml  dass  die  Christen  ohne 

Christo  sind.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  371.) 

VOL.    III.  13 


146  THE  pope's  brief. 

cry  of  war  is  heard  from  east  to  west — if  universal  conflict 
is  at  hand, — it  is  thou  thyself  who  art  the  author  of  all  these. 

"  Seest  thou  not  that  sacrilegious  man  (Luther,)  how  he 
rends  with  wicked  hands,  and  profanely  tramples  under  foot, 
the  pictures  of  the  saints,  and  even  the  holy  cross  of  Jesus  1 
....  Seest  thou  not  how,  in  his  infamous  rage,  he  incites  the 
laity  to  shed  the  blood  of  the  priests,  and  overturn  the  temples 
of  the  Lord. 

"  And  what,  if  the  priests  he  assails  are  disorderly  in  con- 
duct ?  Has  not  the  Lord  said,  '  Whatsoever  they  hid  you^ 
that  observe  and  do,  hut  do  not  after  their  worhi — thus  in- 
structing us  in  the  honour  that  belongs  to  them,  even  though 
their  lives  should  be  disorderly.* 

"  Rebellious  apostate !  he  does  not  blush  to  defile  vessels 
dedicated  to  God ;  he  forces  from  the  sanctuaries  virgins  con- 
secrated to  Christ,  delivering  them  over  to  the  devil ;  he  get- 
teth  into  his  power  the  priests  of  the  Lord,  and  gives  them 
to  abandoned  women.  Awful  profanation !  which  even  the 
heathen  would  have  reprobated  in  the  priests  of  their  idol 
worship. 

"What  punishment,  what  infliction,  dost  thou  think  we 
judge  thee  to  deserve?  Have  pity  on  thyself, — have  pity  on 
thy  poor  Saxons ;  for  surely,  if  thou  dost  not  turn  from  the 
evil  of  thy  way,  God  will  bring  down  His  vengeance  upon 
thee. 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Almighty  God  and  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  of  whom  I  am  vicegerent  on  earth,  I  warn  thee  that 
thou  wilt  be  judged  in  this  world,  and  be  cast  into  the  lake  of 
everlasting  fire  in  that  which  is  to  come.  Repent  and  be  con- 
verted. Both  swords  are  impending  over  thy  head, — the 
sword  of  the  Empire,  and  that  of  the  Papal  authority." 

The  pious  Frederic  shuddered  as  he  read  this  menacing 
brief  A  little  before  he  had  written  to  the  Emperor  to  say 
that  his  age  and  bodily  indisposition  incapacitated  him  for  at- 
tending to  such  matters  ;  and  the  answer  returned  was  one  of 

*  Wen  sie  glcich  eines  verdammten  Lebens  sind.  (L.  0pp.  xviii. 
p.  379.) 


THE    PRINCES    FEAR    THE    POPE.  147 

the  most  insolent  letters  a  reigning  prince  had  ever  received. 
Infirm  and  aged  as  he  was,  his  eyes  rested  upon  the  sword 
he  had  received  at  the  holy  sepulchre  in  the  days  of  youthful 
vigour  A  thought  crossed  his  mind  that  it  might  be  neces- 
sary to  unsheathe  it  in  defence  of  the  conscience  of  his  sub- 
jects, and  that,  near  as  his  life  was  to  its  close,  he  should  not 
descend  to  the  grave  in  peace.  He  forthwith  wrote  to  Wit- 
temberg  to  have  the  judgment  of  the  fathers  of  the  Reforma- 
tion as  to  what  should  be  done. 

There,  also,  forebodings  of  commotion  and  persecution  were 
rife.  "  What  can  I  say,"  exclaimed  the  mild  Melancthon, 
"  whither  can  I  turn  ?*  Hatred  presses  us  to  the  earth — the 
world  is  up  in  arms  against  us."  Luther,  Link,  Melancthon, 
Bugenhagen  and  Amsdorff,  held  a  consultation  on  the  answer 
to  be  returned  to  the  Elector.  They  drew  up  a  reply,  each 
in  terms  nearly  identical,  and  the  advice  they  gave  is  not  a 
little  remarkable. 

"  No  prince,"  said  they,  "  can  undertake  a  war  without  the 
consent  of  the  people  from  whose  hands  he  has  received  his 
authority.!  But  the  people  have  no  heart  to  fight  for  the 
Gospel,  for  they  do  not  believe.  Therefore,  let  not  princes 
take  up  arms ;  they  are  rulers  of  the  nations,  that  is  to  say, 
of  unbelievers^  Here  we  find  the  impetuous  Luther  solicit- 
ing the  discreet  Frederic  to  restore  his  sword  to  its  scabbard. 
No  better  answer  could  be  given  to  the  Pope's  charge  that  he 
stirred  up  the  laity  to  embrue  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the 
priests.  Few  characters  have  been  more  misunderstood  than 
his.  This  advice  was  dated  the  8th  February,  1523.  Fre- 
deric submitted  in  silence. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  effects  of  the  Pope's  anger  began 
to  be  seen.  The  princes  who  had  recapitulated  their  griev- 
ances, now  dreading  the  consequences,  sought  to  make  amends 
by  compliances.  Some,  there  were,  who  reflected  that  victory 
would  probably  declare  for  the  Pontiff,  seeing  that  he,  to  all 

*  Cluid  dicam  1  quo  me  vertam  1     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  627.) 
t  Principi  nullum  licet  suscipere  bellum,  nisi  cpnsentiente  populo,  a 
quo  acccpit  imperium,     (Ibid.  p.  601.) 


148 

appearance,  was  the  stronger  of  the  two.  "  In  our  days,"  ob- 
served Luther,  "  princes  are  content  to  say  three  times  three 
make  nine,  or  twice  seven  make  fourteen, — right,  the  counsel 
shall  stand.  Then  the  Lord  our  God  arises  and  speaks : 
'  What  then  do  you  allow  for  My  power  ?'....  It  may  be 
naught  ....  And  immediately  He  confuses  the  figures,  and 
their  calculations  are  proved  false."* 

The  stream  of  fire  poured  forth  by  the  humble  and  gentle 
Adrian  kindled  a  conflagration,  and  the  rising  flame  spread 
far  and  wide  in  Christendom  a  deep  agitation.  Persecution, 
which  had  slackened  for  a  while,  was  now  renewed.  Luther 
trembled  for  Germany,  and  sought  to  allay  the  tempest.  "  If 
the  princes  make  war  against  the  truth,"  said  he,  "  there  will 
be  such  confusion  as  will  be  the  ruin  of  princes,  magistrates, 
clergy,  and  people.  I  tremble  at  the  thought  that  all  Ger- 
many may,  in  a  little  while,  be  deluged  wi  h  blood. f  Let  us 
stand  as  a  rampart  for  our  country  against  the  wrath  of  our 
God.  Nations  are  not  now  as  formerly. |  The  swoid  of 
civil  war  is  impending  over  kings  : — they  are  bent  on  destroy- 
ing Luther — but  Luther  is  bent  on  saving  them  ;  Christ  lives 
and  reigns,  and  /  shall  reign  ivith  himr^ 

These  words  were  spoken  to  the  winds.  Rome  was  press- 
ing forward  to  scaffolds  and  the  shedding  of  blood.  The  Re- 
formation in  this  resembled  Jesus  Christ, — that  it  oame  not  to 
send  peace  on  the  earth,  but  a  sword.  Persecution  was  ne- 
cessary in  the  counsels  of  God.  As  certain  substances  are 
hardened  in  the  fire  that  they  may  be  less  liable  to  be 
affected  by  atmospheric  changes,  so  the  fiery  trial  was  designed 
to  arm  and  defend  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  from  the  influence 
of  the  world.     But  that  fiery  trial  did  yet  more ;- — it  served, 

*  So  kehrt  er  ihnen  auch  die  Rechnung  gar  urn.  (L.  0pp.  xxii. 
1831.) 

t  Ut  videar  mihi  videre  Germaniam  in  sanguine  natare.  (L.  Epp.  ii. 
p.  156.) 

i  Cogitent  populos  non  esse  tales  modo,  quales  hactenus  fuerunt. 
(Ibid.  p.  157.) 

§  Christus  meus  vivit  et  regpat,  et  ego  vivam  et  regngibo.     (Ibid, 

p.  15a) 


"the  failing  mines."  149 

as  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  to  kindle  in  men's  hearts 
an  universal  enthusiasm  for  a  cause  against  which  such  rage 
was  let  loose.  There  is  in  man,  when  first  introduced  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  a  holy  indignation  against  violence 
and  injustice.  An  instinct  received  from  God  impels  him  to 
range  himself  on  the  side  of  the  oppressed ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  faith  of  the  martyrs  exalts,  controls,  and  leads  him  to 
that  saving  truth  which  gifts  its  followers  with  so  much  cour- 
age and  tranquillity. 

Duke  George  openly  took  the  lead  in  the  persecution.  But 
he  was  not  content  to  carry  it  on  among  his  own  subjects  ;  he 
desired,  above  all,  to  see  it  extend  itself  to  electoral  Saxony, 
the  focus  of  heresy,  and  he  laboured  hard  to  move  the  Elector 
Frederic  and  Duke  John.  In  writing  to  them  from  Nurem- 
berg, he  observed,  "  Certain  merchants,  recently  from  Saxony, 
bring  reports  from  thence  of  strange  things,  and  such  as  are  most 
opposed  to  the  honour  of  God,  and  the  saints.  It  seems,  they 
take  the  holy  sacrament  in  their  hands — consecrate  the  bread 
and  wine  in  the  common  speech  of  the  people — pour  the  blood 
of  Christ  into  a  common  cup.  It  is  said  that  at  Eulenberg,  a 
man,  who  sought  occasion  to  insult  the  officiating  priest,  rode 
into  the  church  mounted  on  an  ass.  And  what  do  we  hear  to  be 
the  consequence  ?  The  mines,  with  which  God  had  enriched 
Saxony,  are  become  less  productive  ever  since  this  preaching 
of  Luther's  innovations.  Would  to  God  that  those  who  boast 
that  they  have  restored  the  Gospel  in  the  electorate  had  em- 
ployed themselves  in  carrying  the  testimony  of  it  to  Constan- 
tinople. Luther's  speech  is  gentle  and  specious,  but  it  draws 
after  it  a  sting  which  is  sharper  than  a  scorpion's.  Let  us 
make  ready  our  hands  to  fight.  Let  us  cast  these  apostate 
monks  and  ungodly  priests  into  prison ;  let  us  do  so  at  once ; 
for  the  hairs  of  our  heads  are  turning  as  grey  as  our  beards, 
and  admonish  us  that  we  have  not  long  to  live."* 

So  wrote  Duke  George  to  the  Elector.  The  latter  answered 
decidedly,  yet  mildly,  that  wMoever  should  commit  any  crime 

*  Wie  ihre  Bart  und  Haare  ausweisen.    (Seckend.  p.  482.) 
13* 


150  THE    AUGUSTINE    CONVENT. 

within  his  state  should  not  go  unpunished ;  but  that,  as  to 
matters  of  conscience,  they  must  be  left  to  the  judgment 
of  God.* 

Failing  in  his  endeavour  to  persuade  Frederic,  George 
pressed  his  severities  against  such  as  lay  within  h'S  reach. 
He  imprisoned  the  monks  and  priests  who  were  known  to 
adhere  to  Luther's  doctrines, — recalled  to  their  families  the 
students  who  had  gone  from  his  states  to  pursue  their  studies 
in  the  universities  to  which  the  Reformation  had  extended, 
and  required  his  subjects  to  deliver  up  to  the  magistrates  all 
copies  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  vernacular  tongue. 
Similar  measures  were  put  in  force  in  Austria,  Wurtemberg, 
and  the  Duchy  of  Brunswick. 

But  it  was  in  the  Low  Countries,  under  the  immediate  rule 
of  Charles  V.,  that  the  persecution  broke  out  with  most 
violence.  The  convent  of  the  Augustines,  at  Antwerp,  con- 
tained within  it  many  monks  who  had  hailed  with  joy  the 
truths  of  the  Gospel.  Several  of  the  brothers  had  passed 
some  time  at  Wittemberg,  and  ever  since  1519,  Salvation,  by 
Grace  had  been  preached  in  their  church  with  unusual  power. 
Toward  the  close  of  the  year  1521,  James  Probst,  the  prior,  a 
man  of  ardent  temperament,  and  Melchior  Mirisch,  who  was 
remarkable  for  the  opposite  qualities  of  experience  and  pru- 
dence, were  arrested  and  carried  to  Brussels.  They  \vere 
there  brought  before  Aleander,  Glapio,  and  several  other 
prelates.  Taken  unawares,  disconcerted,  and  dreading  con- 
sequences, Probst  recanted.  Melchior  Mirisch  found  means 
to  appease  his  judges ;  and,  while  he  ayoided  a  recantation, 
escaped  condemnation. 

These  proceedings  no  way  overawed  the  monks  who 
remained  in  the  convent  of  Antwerp.  They  continued  to 
preach  the  Gospel  with  earnestness.  The  people  crowded  to 
hear,  and  the  church  of  the  Augustines  at  Antwerp  was 
unable  to  contain  the  hearers,  as  had  been  the  case  at  Wittem- 
berg.    In  October,  1522,  the  storm  which  had  been  gathering 

*  Mtisse  man  solche  Dinge  Gott  iiberlassen.  (Seckend.  p.  485.) 


MIRISCH    AND    PROBST.  151 

over  their  heads  suddenly  burst  forth.  The  convent  was 
closed,  and  the  monks  imprisoned  and  sentenced  to  die.*  A 
few  effected  their  escape.  Some  women,  roused  into  forget- 
fulness  of  the  natural  tirnidily  of  their  sex,  rescued  one  of 
them,  by  name  Henry  Zuphten,  from  the  hands  of  the  execu- 
tioners.! Three  of  the  younger  monks,  Henry  Voe,  John 
Eesch,  and  Lambert  Thorn,  evaded  for  a  time  the  search  of 
the  inqu'sitors.  The  sacred  vessels  of  the  convent  were 
publicly  sold,  the  ent-ance  to  the  church  barricaded,  the  holy 
sacrament  was  carried  forth  as  if  from  a  place  of  pollution, 
and  Margaret,  who  then  governed  the  Low  Countries,  solemn- 
ly received  it  into  the  church  of  the  Holy  Virgin.  J  An  order 
was  given  that  not  one  stone  should  be  left  upon  another  of 
that  heretical  monastery;  and  several  private  citizens  and 
women  who  had  joyfully  received  the  Gospel  were  thrown 
into  prison.^ 

Luther  was  deeply  grieved  on  receiving  intelligence  of 
these  events.  "  The  cause  we  have  in  hand,"  said  he,  "  is  no 
longer  a  mere  trial  of  strength ;  it  demands  the  sacrifice  of  our 
lives,  and  must  be  cemented  by  our  blood."  || 

Mirisch  and  Probst  were  reserved  for  a  very  different  fate. 
The  politic  Mirisch  soon  became  the  docile  slave  of  Rome, 
and  was  employed  in  carrying  into  execution  the  Imperial 
orders  against  the  favourers  of  the  Reformation. T  Probst,  on 
the  contrary,  escaping  out  of  the  hands  of  the  inquisitors,  wept 
bitterly  over  his  failure,  retraced  his  recantation,  and  boldly 
preached,  at  Bruges  in  Flanders,  the  doctrine  he  had  abjured. 
Being  again  arrested  and  cast  into  prison  at  Brussels,  death 
seemed  inevitable.**  A  Franciscan  took  pity  upon  him, 
assisted  him  in  his   flight,  and  Probst,  "  saved  by  a  miracle 

♦  Zum  Tode  verurtheilet.     (Seek.  p.  548.) 

t  Q,uomodo  mulieres  vi  Henricum  liberarint.     (L.  Epp.  ii,  p.  265.) 

t  Susceptum  honorifice  a  domina  Margareta.     (Ibid.) 

§  Gives  aliquos,  et  mulieres  vexatse  et  punitae.     (Ibid.) 

II  Et  vitam  exiget  et  sanguinein.     (Ibid.  181.) 

IT  Est  executor  CsBsaris  contra  nostros.     (Ibid.  p.  207.) 

♦*  Dorao  captum,  exustum  credimus.     (Ibid,  p.  214.) 


152  PERSECUTION    AT    MILTENBERG. 

of  God,"  says  Luther,  reached  Wittemberg,  where  all  hearts 
were  filled  with  joy  at  his  second  deliverance.* 

On  every  side  the  priests  of  Rome  were  under  arms.  The 
town  of  Miltenberg  on  the  Maine,  in  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Elector  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  had,  of  all  the  towns  of  Ger- 
many, received  the  Word  of  God  with  most  joy.  The  inhab- 
itants were  much  attached  to  their  pastor,  John  Draco,  one  of 
the  most  enlightened  men  of  his  time.  He  was  compelled  to 
leave  the  city ;  but  the  Roman  clergy  withdrew  at  the  same 
time,  dreading  the  vengeance  of  the  people.  An  evangelical 
deacon  remained  behind,  and  comforted  their  hearts.  At  the 
same  time  the  soldiery  of  Mentz  were  introduced  and  dispersed 
through  the  city,  vomiting  blasphemies,  brandishing  their 
swords,  and  giving  themselves  up  to  debauchery.f 

Some  of  the  evangelical  Christians  fell  victims  to  their 
violence,!  others  were  seized  and  thrown  into  dungeons,  the 
rites  of  Romish  worship  was  restored,  the  reading  of  the 
Scriptures  prohibited,  and  the  inhabitants  forbidden  to  speak 
of  the  Gospel,  even  in  their  family  meetings.  The  deacon 
had  taken  refuge  with  a  poor  widow,  on  the  entrance  of  the 
troops.  Information  was  given  to  the  commanding  officer, 
and  a  soldier  despatched  to  take  him.  The  humble  deacon, 
hearing  the  steps  of  the  soldier  who  sought  his  life,  advancing, 
quietly  waited  for  him,  and  just  as  the  door  of  the  chamber 

*  Jacobus,  Dei  miraculo  liberatus  qui  nunc  agit  nobiscum.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  182.)  This  letter,  which  is  found  in  M.  De  Wette's  collection, 
under  the  date  of  April  14,  must  be  subsequent  to  the  month  of  June, — 
since,  on  the  26th  of  June,  we  find  Luther  saying  that  Probst  has 
been  again  taken,  and  was  expected  to  be  burnt.  The  supposition 
that  would  solve  the  difficulty,  by  supposing  Probst  to  have  been  at 
Wittemberg  between  these  two  captures,  is  not  admissible,  for  Luther 
would  not  have  said  of  a  Christian  who  had  been  saved  from  death  by 
his  recantation,  that  he  had  been  delivered  by  a  miracle  of  God.  Per- 
haps we  should  read  the  date,  &c.  of  this  letter,  instead  of  *  in  die 
S.  TUntrtii,^ — '  in  die  Thtriafi.'' — which  would  place  it  in  July  13 — the 
probable  date,  in  my  opinion. 

t  So  sie  doch  schandlicher  leben  denn  Huren  und  Buben.  (L.  Epp. 
U.  p.  482.) 

%  Schlug  etliche  todt.     (Seek.  p.  604.) 


THE     INQUISITORS    AND    THE    CONFESSORS.  153 

was  abruptly  pushed  open,  he  came  forward,  and,  embracing 
him,  said,  "  I  bid  you  welcome,  brother.  Here  I  am  :  plunge 
your  sword  in  my  bosom."*  The  stern  soldier,  in  astonish- 
ment, dropt  his  weapon,  and  contrived  to  save  the  pious 
evangelist  from  further  molestation. 

Meanwhile,  the  inquisitors  of  the  Low  Couutries,  thirsting 
for  blood,  scoured  the  neighbouring  country,  searching  every- 
where for  the  young  Augustines  who  had  escaped  from  the 
Antwerp  persecution.  Esch,  Voes,  and  Lambert,  were  at  last 
discovered,  put  in  chains,  and  conducted  to  Brussels.  Egmon- 
danus,  Hochstraten,  and  several  other  inquisitors,  summoned 
them  to  their  presence.  "  Do  you  retract  your  opinion,"  in- 
quired Hochstraten,  "that  the  priest  has  no  power  to  forgive 
sins,  but  that  that  power  belongs  to  God  alone  ?" — and  then 
he  went  on  to  enumerate  the  other  Gospel  truths  which  he  re- 
quired them  to  abjure.  "  No:  we  will  retract  nothing,"  ex- 
claimed Esch  and  Voes,  firmly;  "we  will  not  disown  God's 
Word;  we  will  rather  die  for  the  faith!" 

The  iNauisiTOR. — "  Confess  that  you  have  been  deceived 
by  Luther." 

The  young  Augustines. — "  As  the  apostles  were  de- 
ceived by  Jesus  Christ." 

The  Inquisitors. — "  We  declare  you  to  be  heretics, 
worthy  of  being  burnt  alive  ;  and  we  deliver  you  over  to  the 
secular  arm." 

Lambert  was  silent.  The  prospect  of  death  terrified  him  : 
distress  and  uncertainty  agitated  his  heart.  "  I  request  four 
days'  respite,"  said  he,  in  stifled  emotion.  He  was  taken  back 
to  prison.  As  soon  as  this  respite  was  expired,  Esch  and 
Voes  were  degraded  from  their  priestly  office,  and  handed 
over  to  the  council  of  the  reigning  governess  of  the  Low 
Countries.  The  council  delivered  them,  bound,  to  the  execu- 
tioner. Hochstraten  and  three  other  inquisitors  accompanied 
them  to  the  place  of  execution.! 

Arriving  at  the  scafl:old,  the  young  martyrs  contemplated  it 

*  Sey  gegrus.st,  mein  B ruder.     (Scultet.  ann.  i.  p.  173.) 

t  Facta  est  h^c  res  Bruxellae  in  publico  foro.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  361.) 


154  THE    FATE    OF    LAMBERT. 

with  calmness.  Their  constancy,  their  piety,  and  their  youth, 
drew  tears  from  the  inquisitors  themselves.  When  they  were 
bound  to  the  stake,*  the  confessors  drew  near,  "  Once  more 
we  ask  you  if  you  will  receive  the  Christian  faith  ?" 

The  Martyrs. — "  We  believe  in  the  Christian  Church, 
but  not  in  your  Church." 

Half-an-hour  elapsed.  It  was  a  pause  of  hesitation.  A  hope 
had  been  cherished  that  the  near  prospect  of  such  a  death 
would  intimidate  these  youths.  But,  alone  tranquil  of  all  the 
crowd  that  thronged  the  square,  they  began  to  sing  psalms, — 
stopping  from  time  to  time  to  declare  that  they  were  resolved 
to  die  for  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Be  converted — be  converted,"  cried  the  inquisitors,  "  or 
you  will  die  in  the  name  of  the  devil."  "  No,"  answered  the 
martyrs  ;  "  we  will  die  like  Christians,  and  for  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel." 

The  pile  was  then  lighted.  Whilst  the  flame  slowly  as- 
cended, a  heavenly  peace  dilated  their  hearts ;  and  one  of  them 
could  even  say,  "  I  seem  to  be  on  a  bed  of  roses."  t  The  so- 
lemn  hour  was  come — death  was  at  hand.  The  two  martyrs 
cried  with  a  loud  voice,  "  O  Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have 
mercy  upon  us  !"  and  then  they  began  to  recite  their  creed.  J 
At  last  the  flames  reached  them ;  but  the  fire  consumed  the 
cords  which  fastened  them  to  the  stake  before  their  breath  was 
gone.  One  of  them,  feeling  his  liberty,  dropped  upon  his 
knees  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  and  then,  in  worship  to  his 
Lord,  exclaimed,  clasping  his  hands,  "  Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  Da- 
vid, have  mercy  on  us  !"^ 

Their  bodies  were  quickly  wrapped  in  flame ;  they  shouted 
"  Te  Deum  lauda7nus."  Soon  their  voices  were  stifled, — and 
their  ashes  alone  remained. 

*  Nondum  triginta  annorum.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  361.) 

t  Dit  schijnen  mij  als  roosen  te  zijn.  (Brandt  Hist,  der  Reformatie, 
i.  p.  79.) 

t  Admoto  igni,  canere  coeperunt  symbolum  fidei,  says  Erasmus. 
(Epp.  i.  p.  1278.) 

§  Da  ist  der  eine  im  Feuer  auf  die  Knie  gefallen.  (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p. 
481.) 


Luther's  sympathy.  155 

This  execution  had  lasted  four  hours.  It  was  on  the  1st  of 
July,  1523,  that  the  first  martyrs  of  the  Reformation  laid  down 
their  lives  for  the  Gospel. 

All  good  men  shuddered  when  they  heard  of  these  events. 
The  future  was  big  with  fearful  anticipations.  "  The  execu- 
tions have  begun,"*  said  Erasmus.  "At  length,"  exclaimed 
Luther,  "  Christ  is  gathering  some  fruits  of  our  preaching, 
and  preparing  new  martyrs." 

But  the  joy  of  Luther  in  the  constancy  of  these  young 
Christians  was  disturbed  by  the  thoughts  of  Lambert.  Of  the 
three,  Lambert  possessed  most  learning ;  he  had  been  chosen 
to  fill  the  place  of  Probst,  as  preacher  at  Antwerp.  Finding 
no  peace  in  his  dungeon,  he  was  terrified  at  the  prospect  of 
death ;  but  still  more  by  conscience,  which  reproached  him 
with  his  cowardice,  and  urged  him  to  confess  the  Gospel.  De- 
livered, ere  long,  from  his  fears,  he  boldly  proclaimed  the 
truth,  and  died  like  his  brethren.! 

A  noble  harvest  sprung  up  from  the  blood  of  these  martyrs. 
Brussels  manifested  a  willingness  to  receive  the  Gospel  J 
"Wherever  Aleander  lights  a  pile,"  remarked  Erasmus, 
"there  it  seems  as  if  he  had  sowed  heretics."^ 

"  I  am  bound  with  you  in  your  bonds,"  exclaimed  Luther  : 
"  Your  dungeons,  and  your  burnings  my  soul  takes  part  in.|| 
All  of  us  are  with  you  in  spirit ;  and  the  Lord  is  above 
it  all!" 

He  proceeded  to  compose  a  hymn  commemorative  of  the 
death  of  the  young  monks ;  and  soon,  in  every  direction, 
throughout  Germany  and  the  Low  Countries,  in  towns  and  in 

♦  Coepta  est  carnificina.     (Epp.  i.  p.  129.) 

t  Cluarta  post  exustus  est  tertius  frater  Lambertus,  (L.  Epp.  ii, 
p.  361.) 

t  Ea  mors  multos  fecit  lutheranos.  (Er.  Epp.  p.  952.)  Turn  demum 
ccepit  civitas  favere  Luthero.  (Ibid.  p.  1G76.  Erasmus  to  Duke 
George.)    Ea  civitas  antea  purissima.     (Ibid.  p.  1430.) 

§  Ubicumque  fumos  excitavit  nuntius,  ibi  diceres  fuisse  factam 
hjBreseon  sementem.     (Ibid.) 

II  Vestra  vincula  mea  sunt,  vestri  carceres  et  ignes  mei  sunt.  (L. 
Epp.  ii.  p.  464.) 


156  HYMN    ON    THE    MARTVRS. 

villagres,  were  heard  accents  of  song-  which  communicated  an 
enthusiasm  for  the  faith  of  the  martyrs.* 

Flung  to  the  heedless  winds, 
Or  on  the  waters  cast, 
Their  ashes  shall  be  watched, 
And  gathered  at  the  last. 
And  from  that  scattered  dust, 
Around  us  and  abroad, 
Shall  spring  a  plenteous  seed 
Of  witnesses  for  God. 

Jesus  hath  now  received 

Their  latest  living  breath, — 

Yet  vain  is  Satan's  boast 

Of  victory  in  their  death. 

Still — still — though  dead,  they  speak, 

And  trumpet-tongued  proclaim 

To  many  a  wakening  land, 

The  one  availing  Name. 

Doubtless  Adrian  would  have  persisted  in  these  violent 
measures ; — the  failure  of  his  efforts  to  arrest  the  progress  of 
the  Reformation — his  own  orthodoxy — his  zeal — his  inflexi- 
bility— even  his  conscientiousness  would  have  made  him  an 
unrelenting  persecutor.  Providence  ordained  otherwise.  He 
expired  on  the  14th  of  September,  1523;  and  the  Romans, 
overjoyed  at  being  rid  of  the  stern  foreigner,  suspended  a 
crown  of  flowers  at  the  door  of  his  physician,  with  an  inscrip- 
tion— "to  the  saviour  of  his  country.'''' 

Julio  de  Medicis,  cousin  to  Leo  X.,  succeeded  Adrian 
under  the  name  of  Clement  VII.  From  the  day  of  his  elec- 
tion, all  ideas  of  religious  reformation  were  at  an  end.  The 
new  Pope,  like  many  of  his  predecessors,  thought  only  of 

♦  Die  Asche  will  nicht  lassen  ab, 

Sie  staubt  in  alien  Landen, 

Hie  hilft  kein  Bach,  Loch,  nock  Grab  .  .  .  .  (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  4S4.) 

Obligingly  rendered  by  John  Alex.  Messenger;  to  whose  friendly 
pen  the  publisher  is  indebted  for  the  touching  hymns  of  Zwingle  (see 
Vol.  ii.  p.  329 — 332) :  as  well  as  for  the  translation  of  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  Second  Volume,  besides  other  assistance  and  many 
valuable  suggestions. 


THE    LEGATE    CAMPEGGIO.  157 

maintaining  the  privileges  of  the  Papacy,  and  employing  its 
resources  for  his  own  aggrandisement. 

Anxious  to  repair  the  indiscretions  of  Adrian,  Clement  de- 
spatched a  legate  of  a  character  resembling  his  own,  Cardinal 
Campeggio,  the  ablest  prelate  of  his  court,  and  a  man  of 
large  experience,  well  acquainted  with  most  of  the  German 
Princes.  After  a  pompous  reception  in  his  passage  through 
the  Italian  cities,  the  Legate  soon  noticed  the  change  that  had 
taken  place  in  the  Empire.  On  entering  Augsburg,  he  pro- 
posed, according  to  custom,  to  give  his  benediction  to  the  peo- 
ple; but  those  to  whom  he  spoke  met  the  proposal  by  a  smile. 
The  hint  was  enough ;  and  he  entered  Nuremberg  incog- 
nito, without  repairing  to  St.  Sebalde's  church,  where  the 
clergy  were  waiting  for  him.  No  priests  in  sacerdotal  vest- 
ments were  seen  advancing  to  greet  him  ; — no  cross  was  borne 
in  solemn  state  before  him ;  but  one  might  have  thought  a 
private  individual  w-as  taking  his  journey  through  the  city.* 
Everything  indicated  that  the  reign  of  the  Papacy  was  draw- 
ing to  its  close. 

The  Diet  had  met  again  in  session,  at  Nuremberg,  in  Jan- 
uar}'-,  1525.  A  storm  was  impending  over  the  government 
of  the  nation,  owing  to  the  firmness  of  Frederic.  The  Sua- 
bian  league,  comprising  the  richest  cities  of  the  empire,  and, 
above  all,  Charles  the  Fifth,  had  combined  for  his  destruction. 
He  was  charged  with  favouring  the  newly-broached  heresy. 
Accordingl^r,  it  was  decided  that  the  executive  powers  should 
be  so  entirely  changed  as  not  to  retain  one  of  the  old  mem- 
bers. Frederic,  overwhelmed  with  grief,  instantly  took  his 
departure  from  Nuremberg. 

Easter  drew  nigh.  Osiandcr  and  the  gospel  preachers  re- 
doubled their  activit]?-.  The  former  preached  publicly  to  the 
effect,  that  Antichrist  entered  Rome  the  very  day  that  Con- 
stantino had  quitted  it  to  fix  his  residence  at  Constantinople. 
The  ceremony  of  Palm  Sunday  and  others  were  omitted: 
four  thousand  persons  partook  of  the  supper  under  both  kinds ; 

♦  Communi  habitu   quod  per   sylvas   ct  campos   ierat,   per  mediam 
urbem  ,  .  .  sine  clero,  sine  prsvia  cruce.     (Cochl.  p.  82.) 
VOL.    III.  14 


158  EVASION    OF    THE    EDICT    OF    WORMS. 

and  the  Glueen  of  Denmark,  sister  to  the  Emperor,  publicly 
received  it  in  like  manner  at  the  Castle.  "  Oh  !"  exclaimed 
the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  losing  all  self-command,  "  would 
that  you  were  not  my  sister." — "  The  same  mother  bore  us," 
replied  the  Q,ueen ;  "  and  I  would  give  up  every  thing  but 
God's  truth  to  serve  you."* 

Campeggio  trembled  at  witnessing  such  audacity ;  neverthe- 
less, affecting  to  despise  the  jeers  of  the  people,  and  the  ha- 
rangues of  the  preachers, — ^and  relying  on  the  authority  of 
the  Emperor  and  of  the  Pope,  he  referred  the  Diet  to  the 
edict  of  Worms,  and  demanded  that  the  Reformation  should 
be  put  down  by  force.  On  hearing  this,  some  of  the  princes 
and  deputies  gave  vent  to  their  indignation.  "  And  pray," 
asked  they,  addressing  Campeggio,  "  what  has  become  of  the 
memorial  of  grievances  presented  to  the  Pope  by  the  people 
of  Germany?"  The  Legate,  acting  upon  his  instructions, 
assumed  an  air  of  bland  surprise:  "  Three  versions  of  that 
memorial  have  been  received  in  Rome,"  said  he ;  "  but  it  has 
never  been  officially  communicated;  and  I  could  never  believe 
that  so  unseemly  a  paper  could  have  emanated  from  your 
Highnesses." 

The  Diet  was  stung  by  this  reply.  If  this  be  the  spirit  in 
which  the  Pope  receives  their  representations,  they  also  know 
what  reception  to  give  to  such  as  he  should  address  to  them. 
Several  deputies  remarked  that  such  was  the  eagerness  of  the 
people  for  the  Word  of  God,  that  the  attempt  to  deprive  them 
of  it  would  occasion  torrents  of  bloodshed. 

The  Diet  straightway  set  about  preparing  an  answer  to  the 
Pope.  As  it  was  not  possible  to  get  rid  of  the  edict  of  Worms, 
a  clause  was  added  to  it,  which  had  the  effect  of  rendering  it 
null.  "We  require,"  said  they,  "that  all  should  conform  to 
it — so  far  as  is  possibleV\  But  several  of  the  states  had  de- 
clared that  it  was  impossible  to  enforce  it.  At  the  same  time 
calling  to  mind  the  unwelcome  remembrance  of  the  Councils 

*  Wolle  sich  des  Wortes  Gottes  halten.     (Seckcnd.  p.  613.) 
t  Quantum  eis  possibile  sit.  .  .  .  (Cochl.  p.  84.) 


ALARM    OF    THE    POPE.  159 

of  Constance  and  of  Bale,  the  Diet  demanded  the  convocation 
in  Germany  of  a  General  Council  of  Christendom. 

The  friends  of  the  Reformation  did  not  stop  there.  What 
could  they  look  for  from  a  Council  which  might  perhaps 
never  be  called  together,  and  which,  in  any  case,  would  be 
sure  to  be  composed  of  bishops  of  all  nations?  Will  Ger- 
many humble  her  anti-Roman  inclinations  in  deference  to  pre- 
lates assembled  from  Spain,  France,  England,  and  Italy? 
The  government  of  the  nation  has  been  already  set  aside.  It 
is  necessary  that  in  its  place  should  be  a  '  national  assembly' 
charged  with  the  defence  of  the  popular  interest. 

Vainly  did  Hannart,  the  Spanish  envoy  of  Charles,  sup- 
ported by  the  adherents  of  Rome  and  of  the  Emperor,  oppose 
the  suggestion ;  the  majority  of  the  Diet  were  unshaken.  It 
was  arranged  that  a  diet  or  secular  assembly  should  meet  in 
November  at  Spires,  to  regulate  all  questions  of  religion,  and 
that  the  States  should  invite  their  divines  to  prepare  a  list  of 
controverted  points  to  be  laid  before  that  august  assembly. 

No  time  was  lost.  Each  province  prepared  its  memorial, 
and  never  had  Rome  reason  to  apprehend  so  great  an  explo- 
sion. Franconia,  Brandenburg,  Henneberg,  Windsheim, 
Wertheim,  Nuremberg,  declared  for  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  as 
opposed  to  the  seven  sacraments,  the  corruptions  of  the  mass, 
the  worship  of  the  saints,  and  the  Pope's  supremacy.  "  There 
is  coin  for  you  of  the  genuine  stamp,"  said  Luther.  Not  ono 
of  the  questions  which  engaged  the  popular  mind  seemed  likely 
to  be  passed  over  in  silence,  in  that  council  of  the  nation.  The 
majority  would  make  a  stand  for  general  measures.  Tho 
unity  of  Germany,  its  independence,  and  its  reformation,  would 
yet  be  safe! 

When  news  of  what  was  passing  reached  the  Pope,  he  could 
not  restrain  his  anger.  What '  do  any  presume  to  set  up  a 
secular  tribunal  to  decide  questions  of  religion  in  contempt  of 
his  authority  7*  If  this  unprecedented  step  be  taken,  doubtless 
Germany  will  be  saved, — but  Rome  is  ruined  !     A  consistory 

*  Pontifex  aegerrime  tulit.  .  .  .  intelligens  novum  de  religione  tribunal 
Ci)  pacto  excitari  citra  ipsius  auctoritatem.     ("Fallav.  i.  p.  182.) 


160  THE    DUKES    OF    BAYARIA. 

was  hastily  called  together,  and  one  who  watched  the  dismay 
of  the  senators  might  have  thought  the  Germans  were  in  full 
march  upon  the  Capitol.  "  As  to  the  Elector  Frederic,"  ex- 
claimed Aieander,  "  we  must  take  oflhis  head  ;"  and  another 
Cardinal  gave  counsel  that  the  kings  of  England  and  of  Spain 
should  overawe  the  fi-ee  cities  by  threatening  to  break  off  all 
commercial  intercourse  with  them.  In  conclusion,  the  consis- 
tory came  to  the  decision  that  the  only  way  of  safety  lay  in 
moving  heaven  and  earth  to  prevent  the  proposed  assembly  at 
Spires. 

The  Pope  wrote  directly  to  the  Emperor  : — "^  If  I  am  called 
to  be  foremost  in  making  head  against  the  storm,  it  is  not  be- 
cause I  am  the  only  one  threatened  by  the  tempest,  but  because 
I  am  at  the  helm.  The  imperial  authority  is  yet  more  in- 
vaded than  even  the  dignity  of  the  court  of  Rome." 

Whilst  the  Pope  was  sending  this  letter  to  Castile,  he  was 
seeking  to  strengthen  himself  by  alliances  in  Geimany.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  gained  over  one  of  the  most  powerful 
reigning  families  of  the  Empire,  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria.  The 
edict  of  Worms  had  been  as  much  a  dead  letter  there  as  else- 
where ;  and  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  had  made  its  way  ex- 
tensively. But  subsequent  to  the  close  of  1521,  the  princes  of 
the  country,  urged  on  by  Doctor  Eck,  who  was  chancellor  in 
their  university  of  Ingolstadt,  had  again  made  advances  to- 
wards Rome,  and  passed  a  law  enjoining  their  subjects  to  ad- 
here faithful  to  the  religion  of  their  forefathers.* 

The  Bavarian  bishops  showed  some  signs  of  alarm  at  this 
intervention  of  the  secular  authority.  Eck  set  out  immediately 
for  Rome  to  solicit  from  the  Pope  an  extension  of  the  authority 
lodged  in  the  princes.  The  Pope  granted  all  their  desires, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  make  over  to  them  a  fifth  of  the 
revenues  of  the  church  in  their  country. 

Here  we  see  Roman  Catholicism^  at  a  time  Avhen  the  Re- 
formation had  no  regular  settlement,  resorting  to  established 
institutions  for  support,  and   Catholic  princes,  aided  by  the 

*  Erstes  baierisches  Religions  Mandat.  (Winter,  Gescli.  der  Evaiig. 
Lehre  in  Baiern,  i.  p.  310.) 


CONFERENCE    AT    RATISBON.  161 

Pope,  seizing  the  revenues  of  the  Church  long-  before  the  Refor- 
mation had  ventured  to  touch  them.  What  then  must  be 
thoug-ht  of  the  oft-repeated  charges  of  Catholics  on  this 
head  ! 

Clement  VII.  was  secure  of  the  assistance  of  Bavaria  in 
quelling  the  dreaded  assembly  of  Spires.  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  the  Archbishop  of  Salzburg, 
and  others  of  the  princes  were  likewise  gained  over. 

But  Campeggio  was  bent  on  something  more.  His  aim 
was  to  divide  Germany  into  two  hostile  camps ; — Germans 
were  to  be  opposed  to  Germans. 

During  a  previous  residence  at  Stutgard,  the  Legate  had 
concerted  with  Ferdinand  the  project  of  a  league  against  the 
Reformation.  "  There  is  no  telling  what  may  be  the  result 
of  an  assembly  in  which  the  voice  of  the  people  will  be  heard," 
observed  he :  "  The  Diet  of  Spires  may  be  the  ruin  of  Rome 
and  the  salvation  of  Wittemberg.  Let  us  close  our  ranks  and 
be  prepared  for  the  onset."*  It  was  settled  that  Ratisbon 
should  be  the  point  of  rendezvous. 

Prevailing  over  the  jealousies  that  estranged  the  reigning 
houses  of  Bavaria  and  Austria,  Campeggio  contrived  to  as- 
semble in  that  city,  toward  the  end  of  1524,  the  Duke  of 
Bavaria  and  the  Archduke  Ferdinand.  The  Archbishop  of 
Salzburg  and  the  Bishops  of  Trent  and  of  Ratisbon,  joined 
them.  The  Bishops  of  Spires,  Bamberg,  Augsburg,  Stras- 
burg,  Bale,  Constance,  Freesingen,  Passau,  and  Brixen,  sent 
deputies  to  the  assembly. 

The  Legate  opened  the  subject  of  the  meeting,  depicting  in 
moving  language  the  dangers  resulting  from  the  Reformation 
both  to  princes  and  the  clergy,  and  concluded  by  calling  upon 
them  to  extirpate  heresy  and  rescue  the  Church. 

For  fifteen  days  the  conferences  were  continued  in  the  town- 
hall  of  Ratisbon.  At  the  expiration  of  that  time,  a  ball,  which 
continued  till  daybreak,  served  as  a  relaxation  to  the  first 
Catholic  assembly  convened  by  the  Papacy  to  resist  the  infant 

*  Winter,  Gesch.  der  Evang,  Lehre  in  Baiern,  i.  p.  156, 

14* 


162  SUBTLE    DEVICES. 

Reformation,*— and,  after  this,  measures  were  agreed  upon 
for  the  destruction  of  the  heretics. 

The  Princes  and  Bishops  bound  themselves  to  enforce  the 
edicts  of  Worms  and  Nurem.berg— to  allow  of  no  innovations 
in  public  worship — to  tolerate  no  married  priest — to  recall  the 
students  of  their  states  who  might  be  resident  in  Wittemberg, 
and  to  employ  all  the  means  in  their  power  for  the  extirpation 
of  heresy.  They  enjoined  the  preachers  to  take  for  their 
guides,  in  interpreting  difficult  scriptures,  the  Latin  Fathers, 
Ambrose,  Jerome,  Augustine,  and  Gregory.  Not  daring,  in 
the  face  of  the  Reformation,  to  invoke  again  the  authority  of 
the  Schools,  they  contented  themselves  with  laying  the  founda- 
tions of  Roman  orthodoxy. 

But,  not  able  to  close  their  eyes  against  the  scandals  and 
profligate  morals  of  the  clergy,!  they  agreed  on  a  programme 
of  reform  in  which  they  studiously  selected  such  grievances 
of  the  Germans  as  least  involved  or  alfected  the  court  of  Rome. 
They  prohibited  priests  from  dealings  in  the  way  of  barter, 
from  frequenting  taverns,  being  present  "  at  dances,"  and  dis- 
puting over  their  bottle  about  points  of  faith  ! 

This  was  the  issue  of  the  confederation  of  Ratisbon.  J  In 
the  very  act  of  taking  up  arms  against  the  Reformation.  Rome 
yet  conceded  a  something  ; — and  we  discern  in  these  regula- 
tions the  earliest  influence  of  the  Reformation,  in  inducing  an 
interior  renovation  in  Catholicism  itself.  Wherever  the  Gos- 
pel develops  its  resources,  its  enemies  are  sure  to  have  their 
counterfeits  at  hand.  Emser  had  produced  a  translation  of  the 
Bible  to  counteract  that  by  Luther.  Eck,  in  like  manner, 
put  forth  his  Loci  Communes  in  opposition  to  Melancthon's,^ 
— and  then  it  was  that  Rome  began  to  oppose  to  the  Reforma- 
tion those  partial  changes  which  have  given  to  Roman  Catho- 
licism its  present  aspect.     But,  in  truth,  these  expedients  were 

*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  159. 

t  Improbis  clericorum  abusibus  et  perditis  moribus.    (Cochl.  p.  91.) 
X  Ut   Lutheranse   factioni   efficacius  resistere  possint,  ultronea  con- 
federatione  sese  constrixerunt.     (Ibid.) 
§  Enchiridion,  seu  loci  communes  contra  haereticos. 


RESULTS    OF    THE    RATISBON    LEAGUE.  163 

but  subtle  devices  to  escape  impending  dangers.  Branches, 
plucked  indeed  from  the  tree  of  the  Rcformalion,  but  set  in  a 
soil  which  doomed  them  to  decay :  the  principle  of  life  was 
wantin.^-  and  thus  it  will  ever  be  with  all  similar  attempts. 

AnoL.er  fact  is  here  presented  to  us.  The  Romanist  party, 
by  the  league  which  they  formed  at  Ratisbon,  were  the  first  to 
violate  the  unity  of  Germany.  It  was  in  the  Pope's  camp 
that  the  signal  of  battle  was  given.  Ratisbon  was  the  birth- 
place of  that  schism  and  political  rending  of  their  country 
which  so  many  of  the  Germans  to  this  hour  deplore.  The 
national  as.sembly  of  Spires  was  called  to  ensure  the  unity  of 
the  En  pire  by  sanctioning  and  extending  the  Reformation  of 
the  Church.  The  conventicle  of  separatists  that  met  at  Ratis- 
bon for  ever  divided  the  nation  in  two  parties.*  Yet  the 
schemes  of  Campeggio  were  not  at  first  attended  with  the  re- 
sults anticipated.  But  few  of  the  chiefs  responded  to  the  call. 
The  most  decided  opponents  of  Luther,  Duke  George  of  Sax- 
ony, the  elector  Joachim  of  Brandenburg,  the  ecclesiastical 
Electors,  and  the  imperial  cities,  declined  taking  any  part. 
An  opinion  prevailed  that  the  Pope's  legate  was  forming  a 
Romanist  faction  opposed  to  the  national  mind.  The  popular 
sympathies  counterbalanced  the  antipathies  of  religion ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  th3  Ratisbon  Reformation  was  an  object 
of  public  ridicule.  But  a  first  step  had  been  taken, — an  ex- 
ample had  been  set.  It  was  expected  that,  with  a  little  pains, 
it  would  be  easy  eventually  to  confirm  and  enlarge  this  Ro- 
man league.  Those  who  then  hesitated  would  be  decided  by 
the  course  of  events.  To  the  legate,  Campeggio,  is  ascribed 
the  glory  of  having  laid  the  train  which  was  to  bring  little 
less  than  destruction  upon  the  liberties  of  Germany,  and  the 
safety  of  the  Empire,  and  the  Reformation.  From  that  hour 
the  cause  of  Luther  was  no  longer  of  a  nature  purely  religious  ; 
and  the  contest  with  the  Wittemberg  monk  ranked  among  the 
politiciil  events  of  Europe.  Luther  in  this  new  sphere,  would 
pass  under  eclipse,  and  Charles  V.,  the  Pope,  and  the  reign- 
ing Princes,  would  be  the  chief  actors  on  the  stage  where 
*  Ranke  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  163. 


164  THE  emperor's  edict. 

the  grand  drama  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  to  be  per- 
formed. 

But  the  prospect  of  the  assembly  at  Spires  was  continually 
present  to  the  minds  of  the  people.  Its  measures  might  remedy 
the  mischiefs  that  Campeggio  had  occasioned  at  Ratisbon. 
Accordingly,  Rome  strained  every  nerve  to  prevent  its  assem- 
bling. "What!"  exclaimed  the  Pope's  deputies  to  Charles 
v.,  as  also  to  his  ally  Henry  VIII.,  and  other  princes,  "  will 
these  presumptuous  Germans  pretend  to  decide  points  of  faith 
in  a  national  assembly  !  They  seem  to  expect  that  kings,  the 
imperial  authority,  all  Christendom,  and  the  whole  world,  are 
to  bend  to  their  decisions." 

The  moment  was  not  ill  chosen  for  influencing  the  Emperor, 
The  war  between  that  prince  and  Francis  the  First  was  at  its 
height.  Pescara  and  the  Constable  of  Bourbon  had  left  Italy, 
and  entering  France  in  the  month  of  May,  laid  siege  to  Mar- 
seilles. The  Pope,  who  looked  with  an  evil  eye  on  this  at- 
tack, might  effect  a  powerful  diversion  in  the  rear  of  the  Im- 
perial forces.  Charles,  who,  under  these  circumstances,  must 
have  feared  to  give  umbrage  to  his  Holiness,  did  not  hesitate 
to  sacrifice  the  independence  of  the  Empire,  that  he  might 
purcha.se  the  favour  of  Rome,  and  humble  his  rival  the  king 
of  France. 

On  the  15th  July,  Charles  issued  an  edict,  dated  at  Burgos 
in  Castile,  "in  which  he  haughtily  and  angrily  declared  that 
to  the  Pope  alone  belonged  the  right  to  convoke  a  Council,  and 
to  the  Emperor  that  of  demanding  one  :  that  the  meeting  ap- 
pointed to  be  held  at  Spires  neither  ought  to  be,  nor  could  be 
allowed  :  that  it  was  strange  that  the  German  people  should 
undertake  to  do  that,  which  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  with 
the  Pope  at  their  head,  could  not  lawfully  do :  and  that  it  was 
necessary,  without  delay,  to  carry  into  effect  the  decree  of 
Worms  against  the  modern  Mahomet." 

Thus  it  was  from  Spain  and  Italy  the  blow  was  struck 
which  arrested  the  development  of  the  Gospel  among  the 
people  of  Germany.  Charles  was  not  satisfied  with  this. 
In  1519  he  had  offered  to  duke  John,  the  Elector's  brother,  to 


MARTYRDOM    OF    GASPARD    TaUBER.  165 

g-ive  his  sister,  the  Archduchess  Catharine,  in  marriag-e  to  his 
son,  John  Frederic,  heir  to  the  electorate.  But  was  not  that 
reigning-  bouse  of  Saxony  the  grand  support  of  those  principles 
of  religious  and  political  independence  which  Charles  detested? 
He  decided  to  break  off  all  intercourse  with  the  troublesome 
and  guilty  champion  of  Gospel  principles  and  the  nation's 
wishes, — and  accordingly  gave  his  sister  in  marriage  to  John 
III.  king  of  Portugal.  Frederic,  who  in  1519  had  manifested 
some  indifference  to  the  overtures  of  the  king  of  Spain,  was 
enabled  in  1524,  to  suppress  his  indignation  at  this  conduct  of 
the  Emperor.  But  Duke  John  haughtily  intimated  his  feel- 
ing of  the  affront  put  upon  him. 

Thus,  an  observer  might  have  distinguished,  as  they  fell 
slowly  into  the  line,  the  rival  hosts  by  whose  struggle  for 
mastery  the  Empire  was  to  be  so  long  convulsed. 

The  Romanists  went  a  step  further.  The  compact  of  Rat- 
isbon  was  to  be  no  empty  form  ;  it  was  necessary  that  it  should 
be  sealed  with  blood.  Ferdinand  and  Campeggio  descended 
the  Danube  from  Ratisbon  to  Vienna,  and,  during  their  jour- 
ney, mutually  pledged  themselves  to  cruel  measures.  Instantly 
a  persecution  was  set  on  foot  in  the  Austrian  provinces. 

A  citizen  of  Vienna,  by  name  Gaspard  Tauber,  had  circu- 
lated Luther's  uq-itings,  and  had  himself  w^ritten  against  the 
invocation  of  saints,  purgatory,  and  transubstantiation*  Being 
thrown  into  prison,  he  was  required  by  his  judges,  both 
divines  and  jurisconsults,  to  retract  his  errors.  It  was  believed 
that  he  had  given  way,  and  every  preparation  was  made  in 
Vienna  to  gratify  the  populace  with  the  solemn  spectacle  of 
his  recantation.  On  St.  Mary's  day,  two  pulpits  were  erected 
over  the  cemetery  of  St.  Stephen's,  the  one  for  the  leader  of 
the  choir,  whose  office  was  to  chaunt  the  heretic's  repentance, 
the  other  for  Tauber  himself  The  formula  of  his  recantation 
was  put  into  his  hands.f  The  people,  the  choristers,  and  the 
priests   were   in   silent    expectation.     Whether   it   was   that 

*  Atque  etiam  proprios  ipse  tractatus  perscripserim,  (CocIiIjeus,  p. 
92,  verso.) 

t  See  Cochl.,  lb.  Cum  igitur  ego  Casparus  Tauber,  etc. 


166  CRUELTIES    IN    WURTEMBERG. 

Tauber  had  given  no  promise  to  recant,  or  whether,  in  the 
appointed  moment  of  abjuration,  he  suddenly  received  fresh 
energy  of  faith, — he  exclaimed  aloud,  '•  /  am  not  convinced, 
and  I  appeal  to  the  holy  Roman  Empire."  Ecclesiastics, 
choristers,  and  by-standers,  were  struck  with  astonishment  and 
dismay.  But  Tauber  continued  calling  for  death  rather  than 
that  he  should  deny  the  Gospel.  He  was  beheaded. — his  body 
burned  :* — and  his  firmness  left  an  indelible  impression  on  the 
memory  of  the  citizens  of  Vienna. 

At  Buda,  in  Hungary,  a  bookseller,  named  John,  who  had 
received  the  truth  in  the  love  of  it,  had  distributed  copies  of 
the  New  Testament,  and  also  some  of  Luther's  writings.  The 
persecutors  bound  him  to  a  stake,  and  then  forming  a  pile  of 
his  books,  so  as  to  enclose  him  within  them,  set  fire  to  the 
whole.  The  poor  man  manifested  an  unshaken  courage, 
rejoicing,  amidst  the  flames,  that  he  was  counted  worthy  to 
sufier  for  his  Lord's  name.  "  Blood  follows  blood,"  cried 
Luther,  when  he  heard  of  this  martyrdom,!  "  but  that  inno- 
cent blood  that  Rome  delights  to  shed,  will  one  day  choke  the 
Pope,  with  his  kings  and  their  kingdoms.^" 

The  zeal  of  the  fanatics  burnt  every  day  more  fiercely. 
Gospel  preachers  were  expelled,  magistrates  banished,  and 
sometimes  the  most  horrible  torments  were  inflicted.  In  Wur- 
temberg  an  inquisitor,  named  Reichler,  caused  the  Lutherans, 
especially  their  preachers,  to  be  hanged  upon  the  trees. 
Monsters  were  found,  who  deliberately  nailed  by  their  tongues 
to  the  stake  the  ministers  of  God's  word, — so  that  the  sufferers, 
tearing  themselves  in  their  agony  from  the  wood  to  which 
they  were  fastened,  endured  a  frightful  mutilation  in  their 
efforts  to  liberate  themselves, — and  were  thus  deprived  of  that 

*  Credo  te  vidisse  Casparis  Tauber  historiam  martyris  novi  Viennse, 
quern  caesum  capite  scribunt  et  igne  exustum  pro  verbo  Dei.  (Luther 
to  Hausmann,  12  Nov.  1524,  ii.  p.  563.) 

t  Idem  accidit  Budse  in  Ungaria  bibliopolae  cuidam  Johanni,  simul 
cum  libris  circa  eum  positis  exusto,  fortissimeque  passo  pro  Domino. 
(Ibid.) 

X  Sanguis  sanguinem  tangit,  qui  suffocabit  papam  cum  regibus  el 
regnis  suis,    (Ibid.) 


rERSECUTION    IN    BAVARIA.  167 

gift  of  speech  which  they  had  long  used  in  the  preaching"  of 
the  Gospel.* 

The  same  persecutions  were  set  on  foot  in  the  other  states 
of  the  Catholic  League.  In  the  neighbourhood  of  Salzburg, 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  who  had  been  sentenced  to  imprison- 
ment for  life,  was  on  his  way  to  the  prison ;  whilst  the  con- 
stables who  had  charge  of  him  were  stopping  to  drink  at  a 
house  by  the  wayside,  two  country  youths,  moved  with  com- 
passion, contrived,  by  eluding  their  vigilance,  to  favour  the 
escape  of  the  pastor.  The  rage  of  the  Archbishop  broke 
forth  against  these  poor  people-,  and  without  so  much  as  any 
form  of  trial,  he  commanded  that  they  should  be  beheaded. 
They  were  secretly  taken  outside  the  town,  at  an  early  hour. 
Coming  to  the  plain  where  they  were  to  die,  the  executioner's 
heart  failed  him : — "  For,"  said  he,  "  they  have  not  been  con- 
demned." "  Do  your  duty,"  said  the  Archbishop's  emissary, 
sternly,  "  and  leave  to  the  Prince  to  answer  for  it :" — and  the 
heads  of  the  youths  were  immediately  struck  off  f 

Th-e  persecution  raged  with  most  violence  in  the  states  of 
the  Duke  of  Bavaria.  Priests  were  degraded;  nobles  expel- 
led from  their  castles ;  spies  traversed  the  country ;  and  sus- 
picion and  terror  filled  the  hearts  of  all.  Bernard  Fichtel,  a 
magistrate,  was  on  his  way  to  Nuremberg,  called  thither  by 
the  Duke's  -affairs ;  on  the  road,  he  was  joined  by  Francis 
Bourkard,  a  professor,  from  Ingolstadt,  and  a  friend  of  Eck. 
Bourkard  accosted  him,  and  they  travelled  in  company.  After 
supping  together,  the  professor  began  to  speak  on  matters  of 
religion.  Fichtel  having  some  knowledge  of  his  company, 
reminded  him  that  the  recent  edict  prohibited  such  topics  of 
conversation.  "  Between  us,"  answered  Bourkard,  "  there  is 
nothing  to  fear."  On  this  Fichtel  remarked,  "  I  don't  think 
the  edict  can  be  enforced;"  and- he  went  on  to  express  him- 
self in  a  tone  of  doubt  respecting  purgatory,  observing,  "that 
it  was  a  dreadful  thing  to  visit  religious  differences  with 
death."   ■  At  hearing  this,  Bourkard  could  not  control  him- 

♦  Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  174. 

t  Zauner,  Salzburger  Chronik  IV.  p.  381. 


168  FANATICISM    IN    HOLSTElN. 

self.  "What  more  just,"  exclaimed  he,  "  than  to  strike  off 
the  heads  of  all  those  scoundrel  Lutherans?"  He  soon  took  a 
kind  leave  of  Fichtei ; — but  hastened  to  lodge  information 
agfainst  him.  Fichtei  was  thrown  into  prison,  and  the  un- 
happy man,  who  had  no  desire  of  the  martyr's  crOiVn — his 
religious  convictions  not  being  at  all  deep — escaped  death 
only  by  a  shameful  recantation.  Confidence  was  at  an  end ; 
and  no  one  was  safe. 

But  that  death  which  Fichtei  avoided,  others  met.  It  was 
in  vain  that  the  Gospel  was  now  only  privately  preached.* 
The  Duke  urged  on  its  pursuers ;  following  it  even  in  the 
darkness,  in  secret  places,  in  private  dwellings,  and  mountain 
recesses. 

"  The  cross  and  persecution  are  in  full  career  in  Bavaria," 
said  Luther:  "those  wild  beasts  are  carrying  all  before 
them."t 

Even  the  north  of  Germany  was  not  exempted  from  these 
atrocities.  Bogislas,  Duke  of  Pomerania,  dying,  his  son,  who 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  court  of  Duke  George,  set  on 
foot  a  persecution  of  the  Gospel,  Suaven  and  Knipstrow 
were  compelled  to  seek  refuge  in  flight. 

But  it  was  in  Holstein,  that  one  of  the  most  memorable  in- 
stances of  fanaticism  occurred. 

Henry  Zuphten,  who,  as  has  been  seen,  had  escaped  from 
the  convent  at  Antwerp,  was  engaged  in  preaching  the  Gos- 
pel at  Bremen.  Nicholas  Boye,  pastor  at  Mehldorf,  in  the 
country  of  the  Dittmarches,  and  several  devout  persons  of  the 
neighbouring  districts,  having  invited  him  to  come  over  and 
declare  Jesus  Christ;  he  complied.  Immediately,  tl<^  prior 
of  the  Dominicans  and  the  vicar  of  the  official  of  Hamburg 
concerted  measures.  '•  If  he  is  allowed  to  preach,  and  the 
people  give  ear,"  said  they,  "we  are  undone."  The  prior 
passed  a  disturbed  night;  and,  rising  early  in  the  morning, 
repaired  to  the  wild  and  barren  heath  on  which  the  forty-eight 
regents  of  the  country  are  accustomed  to  hold  their  meetings. 

♦  Verbi  non  palam  seminati.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  559.) 

t  In  Bavaria  multum  rcgnat  crux  et  pcrsecutio  .  ,  .  ,  (Ibid.) 


TttE    PRIOR    AND    THE    REGENT.  169 

^'  The  monk  from  Bremen  is  come  amongst  us,"  said  he,  ad- 
dressing them,  "and  will  bring  ruin  on  the  Dittmarchc:" 
Those  forty-eight  simple-minded  and  unh^arned  men,  drceived 
inlo  the  belief  that  they  would  earn  imperishable  renown  by 
del: veering  the  world  from  the  heretical  monk,  decided  on 
putting  him  to  death  without  so  much  as  giving  him  a  hear- 
ing. 

It  was  Saturday — and  the  prior  was  bent  on  preventing 
Henry's  preaching  on  the  following  Sunday.  In  the  middle 
of  the  night  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  pastor  Boye,  armed 
with  the  mandate  of  the  forty-eight  regents.  "  If  it  be  the 
will  of  God  that  1  should  die  among  the  Dittmarches,"  said 
Henry  Zuphten  ;  "Heaven  is  as  easily  reached  from  thence 
as  from  anywhere  else.*     I  will  preach." 

He  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  spoke  with  earnestness.  His 
hearers,  moved  and  roused  by  his  christian  eloquence,  had 
scarcely  quitted  the  church,  when  the  prior  delivered  to  them 
the  mandate  of  the  forty-eight  regents  forbidding  the  monk  to 
preach.  They  immediately  sent  a  deputation  to  the  heath,  and 
the  Dittmarches,  after  long  discussion,  agreed  that,  considering 
their  total  ignorance,  further  measures  should  be  deferred  till 
Easter.  But  the  prior,  irritated  at  this,  approached  certain  of 
the  regents,  and  stirred  up  their  zeal  afresh.  "  We  will  write 
to  him,"  said  they.  "  Have  nothing  to  do  with  him,"  replied 
the  prior;  "if  he  begins  to  speak,  we  shall  not  be  able  to 
withstand  him.  We  must  seize  him  during  the  night,  and 
burn  him  without  giving  him  time  to  open  his  lips." 

Every  thing  was  arranged  accordingly.  The  day  after 
Conception  day,  at  nightfall,  Ave  Maria  was  rung.  At  the 
signal,  all  the  peasants  of  the  adjacent  villages  assembled,  to 
the  number  of  five  hundred,  and  their  leaders  having  broach- 
ed three  butts  of  Hamburg  beer,  by  this  means  stimulated  their 
resolution.  The  hour  of  midnight  struck  as  the  party  entered 
Mehldorf ;  the  peasants  were  under  arms  ;  the  monks  carried 
torches  ;  all  went  forward  in  disorder,  exchanging  shouts  of 
fury.  Arrived  at  the  village,  there  was  a  deep  silence  lest 
*  Der  Himmel  ware  da  so  nahe  al.s  anderswo.  (L.  0pp.  xix.  330.) 
VOL.    III.  15 


170  MARTYRDOM    OF    HENRY    ZUPHTEN. 

Henry,  receiving  intimation  of  danger,  should  effect  his  es- 
cape. 

Of  a  sudden,  the  gates  of  the  parsonage  were  burst  open—- - 
the  drunken  peasantry  rushed  within,  striking  everything  in 
their  way — tossing  pell-mell,  dishes,  kettles,  cups,  and  articles 
of  apparel.  They  seized  any  money  that  they  could  find,  and 
then  rushing  on  the  poor  pastor,  they  struck  him  down,  shout- 
ing "  Kill  him  !  kill  him  !"  and  then  threw  him  into  the  mud. 
But  Henry  was  their  chief  object  in  the  attack.  They  pulled 
him  out  of  bed,  tied  his  hands  behind  him,  and  dragged  him 
after  them,  naked  as  he  was,  in  the  piercing  cold.  "  What 
are  you  come  here  for  ?"  cried  they  ;  and  as  Henry  answered 
meekly,  they  exclaimed,  "  Down  with  him  !  down  with  him! 
if  we  listen  to  him  we  shall  become  heretics  like  himself" 
They  had  dragged  him  naked  over  ice  and  snow,  his  feet 
were  bleeding  profusely,  and  he  begged  to  be  set  on  horseback. 
"A  fine  thing  truly,"  said  they,  "for  us  to  furnish  horses  for 
heretics  !  On,  on" — and  they  continued  dragging  him  behind 
them  till  they  arrived  at  the  heath.  A  woman,  who  stood  at 
the  door  of  the  house  just  as  the  servant  of  God  was  passing, 
burst  into  tears.  '•  My  good  woman,"  said  Henry,  "  weep  not 
forme."  The  bailiff  pronounced  his  sentence.  Then  one  of 
his  ferocious  escort,  with  a  sword,  smote  the  preacher  of  Jesus 
Christ  on  the  head.  Another  struck  him  with  a  club.  A 
monk  was  ordered  to  approach,  and  receive  his  confession. 
"  My  brother,"  said  Henry,  "  have  I  done  you  any  wrong  ?" 
"  None,"  replied  the  monk.  "  Then,"  returned  Henry,  "  I 
have  nothing  to  confess  to  you,  and  you  have  nothing  to  for- 
give." The  monk  retired  in  confusion.  Many  attempts  were 
made  to  set  fire  to  the  pile;  but  the  wood  would  not  catch. 
For  two  hours  the  martyr  stood  thus  in  presence  of  the  infu- 
riated peasantry — calm,  and  lifting  his  eyes  to  heaven.  While 
they  were  binding  him,  that  they  might  cast  him  into  the  flame, 
he  began  to  confess  his  faith.  '•  First  burn,"  said  a  country- 
man, dealing  him  a  blow  with  his  fist  on  the  mouth ;  "  burn  ; 
and  after  that,  speak."  They  threw  him  on  the  pile,  but  he 
rolled  down  on  one  side.     John  Holme,  seizing  a  club,  struck 


LUTHER    AND    CARLSTADT.  171 

him  upon  the  breast,  and  laid  him  dead  upon  the  burning 
coals.  "  Such  is  the  true  story  of  the  sufferings  of  that  holy- 
martyr,  Henry  Zuphten."* 

Whilst  the  Romanists  were,  on  all  sides,  unsheathing  the 
sword  against  the  Reformation,  the  work  itself  was  passing 
through  new  stages  of  development.  Not  to  Zurich — nor 
Geneva,  but  to  Wittemberg,  the  focus  of  Luther's  revival,  must 
we  go  to  find  the  beginnings  of  that  Reformed  Church,  of 
which  Calvin  ranks  as  the  most  distinguished  doctor.  There 
was  a  time  when  these  two  great  families  of  believers  slept  in 
the  same  cradle.  Concord  ought  to  have  crowned  their  ma- 
tured age;  but  when  once  the  question  of  the  Supper  was 
raised,  Luther  threw  away  the  proper  element  of  the  Refor- 
mation, and  took  his  stand  for  himself  and  his  church  in  an 
exclusive  Lutheranism.  The  mortification  he  experienced 
from  this  rival  teaching  was  shown  in  his  loss  of  much  of  that 
kindness  of  manner  which  was  so  natural  to  him,  and  commu- 
nicated in  its  stead  a  mistrust,  an  habitual  di-ssatisfaction,  and 
an  irritability  which  he  had  never  before  manifested. 

It  was  between  the  two  early  friends — the  two  champions 
who,  at  Leipsic,  had  fought  side  by  side  against  Rome, — be- 
tween Carlstadt  and  Luther  that  the  controversy  broke  forth. 
Their  attachment  to  contrary  views  was  the  result,  with  each 
of  them,  of  a  turn  of  mind  that  has  its  value.  Indeed,  there 
are  two  extremes  in  religious  views ;  the  one  tends  to  mate- 
rialize all  things  ;  the  other,  to  spiritualize  every  thing.  The 
former  characterized  Rome ;  the  latter  is  seen  in  the  Mystics. 
Religion  resembles  man  himself  in  this — namely,  that  it  con- 
sists of  a  body  and  a  soul;  pure  idealists,  equally  with  mate- 
rialists in  questions  of  religion,  as  of  philosophy — both  err. 

This  was  the  great  question  which  lay  hid  in  the  dispute 
concerning  the  Supper.  Whilst  a  superficial  observer  sees  in 
it  nothing  but  a  paltry  strife  about  words,  a  deeper  observa- 
tion discerns  in  it  one  of  the  most  important  controversies  that 
can  engage  the  mind  of  man. 

♦  Das  ist  die  wahre  Historic,  etc.     (L.  Opp,  (L.)  xix.  p.  333.) 


172 

Here  the  Reformers  diverge,  and  form  two  camps ;  hut 
each  can.p  carries  away  a  portion  of  the  truth.  Luther,  with 
his  adherents,  think  they  are  resisting  an  exaggerated  spirit- 
ualism. Carlstadt,  and  those  of  the  reformed  opinion,  believe 
they  are  opposing  a  detestable  materialism.  Each  turns  against 
the  error  which,  to  his  mind,  seems  most  noxious,  and  in  as- 
sailing it,  goes — it  may  be — ^beyond  the  truth.  But  this  be- 
ing admitted,  it  is  still  true  that  both  are  right  in  the  prevail- 
ing turn  of  their  thoughts,  and  thourh  ranking  in  different 
hosts,  the  two  great  teachers  are  nevertheless  found  under  the 
same  standard — that  of  Jesus  ChrisL,  who  alone  is  truth  in 
the  full  import  of  that  word. 

Carlstadt  was  of  opinion  that  nothing  could  be  more  preju- 
dicial to  genuine  piety  than  to  lean  upon  outwp."d  observances, 
and  a  sort  of  mysterious  efRcacy  in  the  sacraments.  "  The 
outward  participation  in  the  Supper  brmgs  Salvation,"  had 
')een  the  lano-uao-e  of  Rome  ;  and  that  doctrine  had  sufficed  to 
'natenalize  religion.  Carlstadt  saw  no  better  course  for  again 
'^xaliing  its  spiritual  character  than  to  deny  all  presence  of 
Christ's  body  ;  and  he  taught  that  the  Supper  was  simply  a 
pledge  to  believers  of  tlieir  redemption. 

As  to  Luiiher,  he  now  took  an  exactly  opposite  direction. 
He  had  at  hi  t  contended  for  the  sense  we  have  endeavoured 
:  open.  Ii.  his  tract  on  the  Mass,  published  in  1520,  he  thus 
expressed  hi.nself : — "  I  •".-in.  every  day  enjoy  the  advantages 
of  the  Sr.  raments,  if  I  do  but  call  to  mind  the  v/ord  and 
promise  jt'  Jhrist,  and  wkh  them  feed  and  strengthen  my 
faith."  Ntdiher  Carlstadt,  nor  Zwingle,  nor  Calvin  have  said 
mj  thing  more  strong  than  this.  It  appears,  indeed,  that  at 
that  period  li  ihought  would  often  occur  to  him,  that  a  sym- 
bclicai  expi  liiation  of  the  Supper  would  be  the  mightiest  en- 
gine to  oveiurn  the  Papal  system;  for,  in  1525,  v/e  find  him 
saying,  that  five  years  before,  he  had  gone  through  much  trial 
of  mind  on  account  of  this  doctrir  '  *  and  that  any  one  who 
could  then  have  proved  to  him  that  thoj     i=5   only  the  bread 

'^  I'.-h  habe  wnhl  so  harte  Anfechtungeri    Ir.   t*      '"P      (L.  Epp.  ii. 


C.ARLSTADT    LEAVES    WITTEMBERG.  173 

and  wine  in  the  Supper  would  have  done  him  the  greatest 
service. 

But  new  circumstances  arose,  and  threw  him  into  a  posi- 
tion in  which  he  was  led  to  oppose,  and  sometimes  with  much 
heat,  opinions  to  which  he  had  made  so  near  an  approach. 
The  fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists  may  account  for  the  turn 
which  Luther  then  took.  These  enthusiasts  were  not  content 
with  disparaging  what  they  termed  the  outward  Word — that 
is,  the  Bible,  and  setting  up  a  claim  to  special  communica- 
tions of  the  Holy  Spirit,  they  went  so  far  as  to  despise  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Supper  as  an  external  act,  and  to  speak  of 
the  inward  as  the  only  true  communion.  From  that  time,  in 
every  attempt  to  exhibit  the  symbolical  import  of  the  Supper, 
Luther  saw  only  the  danger  of  weakening  the  authority  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  of  admitting,  instead  of  their  true  mean- 
ing, mere  arbitrary  allegories  spiritualizing  all  religion,  and 
making  it  consist,  not  in  the  gifts  of  God,  but  in  man's  impres- 
sions ;  and,  by  this  means,  substituting,  in  place  of  genuine 
Christianity,  a  mystic  doctrine,  or  theosophy,  or  fanaticism 
which  would  be  sure  to  be  its  grave.  It  must  be  confessed, 
that,  but  for  the  energetic  resistance  of  Luther,  this  tendency  to 
mysticism  (enthusiastic  and  subjective  in  its  character,)  might 
have  rapidly  extended  itself,  and  turned  back  the  tide  of  bles- 
sings which  the  Reformation  was  to  pour  upon  the  world, 

Carlstadt,  impatient  at  finding  himself  hindered  from  open- 
ing his  views  without  reserve  in  Wittemberg  ;  and  having  no 
rest  in  his  spirit,  from  his  desire  to  combat  a  system  which,  in 
his  view,  "lowered  the  value  of  Christ's  death,  and  set  aside 
his  righteousness,"  resolved  "  to  give  a  public  testimony  for 
the  advantage  of  poor  deluded  Christians."  He  left  Wittem- 
berg, in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1524,  without  previous  in- 
timation of  his  intention  to  the  university  or  the  chapter,  and 
repaired  to  the  small  town  of  Orlamund,  the  church  of  which 
was  placed  under  his  superintendence.  Dismissing  the  vicar, 
he  procured  himself  to  be  appointed  its  pastor,  and  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  wishes  of  the  chapter,  of  the  university,  and  of  the 
Elector,  established  himself  in  his  new  office. 
15* 


174  LUTHER    AT    JENA. 

He  soon  began  to  disseminate  his  doctrines:  "  It  is  not  pos- 
sible," said  he,  "  to  name  any  advantage  derived  from  the  real 
'presence.^  which  does  not  already  flow  from  faith — it  is,  there- 
fore, useless.''  To  explain  Christ's  words  in  the  institution 
of  the  Supper,  he'  resorted  to  an  interpretation  which  is  not 
received  in  the  Reformed  churches.  Luther,  during  the  dis- 
cussion at  Leipsic,  had  explained  the  words — "  Thou  art 
Peter,  and  on  this  rock  I  will  build  my  churcW — sepaiating 
che  two  propositions,  and  applying  the  latter  to  the  person  of 
the  Saviour.  "  Just  so,"  said  Carlstadt,  "  '  take  eai  was  spoken 
in  reference  to  the  bread  ;  but  '  this  is  my  body'  is  to  be  under- 
stood of  Jesus  Christ,  who  then  pointed  to  himself, — and  inti- 
mated by  the  symbol  of  the  broken  bread,  that  that  body  was 
about  to  be  broken." 

Carlstadt  did  not  stop  there.  Scarce  had  he  emancipated 
himself  from  Luther's  oversight,  when  he  felt  his  zeal  revive 
against  the  use  of  images.  His  bold  addresses  and  enthusi- 
astic appeals  were  but  too  likely  to  madden  the  minds  of  men 
in  these  agitated  times.  The  people,  thinking  they  heard  a 
second  Elijah,  proceeded  to  throw  down  the  idols  of  Baal, 
The  excitement  soon  spread  to  the  neighbouring  villages. 
The  Elector  interfered  ;  but  the  peasants  answered  that  it  was 
right  to  obey  God  rather  than  men.  On  this,  the  Prince  de- 
cided to  despatch  Luther  to  Orlamund,  to  restore  tranquillity. 
Luther  looked  upon  Carlstadt  as  a  man  urged  on  by  a  love 
of  notoriety;*  a  fanatic  who  would  even  go  the  length  of 
raising  war  against  Christ  himself  Perhaps  Frederic  might 
have  made  a  wiser  choice.  Luther,  however,  set  forth  ;  and 
Carlstadt  saw  his  troublesome  rival  once  more  appear  in  order 
to  baffle  his  projects  of  reform  and  arrest  his  impetuosity. 

Jena  lay  in  the  road  to  Orlamund.  Arriving  in  that  town 
on  the  23rd  August,  Luther  ascended  the  pulpit  on  the  24th, 
at  seven  in  the  morning.  He  preached  an  hour  and  a  half  to 
a  numerous  auditory  against  fanatics,  rebels,  the  breakers  of 
images,  and  the  despisers  of  the  real  presence,  protesting  with 

♦  Hue  perpulit  eum  insana  gloriae  et  laudis  libido.  (L.  Epp.  ii. 
p.  551.) 


LUTHER    AND    CARLSTADT.  175 

vehemence  against  the  innovations  at  Oilamund.  He  did  not 
refer  to  Carlstadt  by  name,  but  every  one  understood  whom  he 
had  in  his  eye. 

Either  by  accident  or  design,  Carlstadt  was  then  at  Jena, 
and  among  the  crowd  of  Luther's  hearers.  He  lost  no  time 
in  calling  the  preacher  to  account.  Luther  was  at  dinner  with 
the  prior  of  Wittemberg,  the  burgomaster,  the  secretary,  the 
pastor  of  Jena,  and  several  officers  in  the  service  of  the  Em- 
peror and  of  the  Margrave,  when  a  letter  was  handed  to  him 
from  Carlstadt,  requesting  an  interview.  He  passed  it  to  those 
near  him,  and  returned  a  message  by  the  bearer  :  "  If  Doctor 
Carlstadt  wishes  to  see  me,  let  him  come  in  ; — if  not,  I  have 
no  wish  to  see  him."  Carlstadt  entered.  His  appearance 
produced  a  lively  sensation  in  the  whole  assembly.  The  ma- 
jority, eager  to  see  the  two  lions  encounter  one  another,  sus- 
pended their  repast,  and  were  all  eyes,  while  the  more  timid 
turned  pale  with  apprehension. 

Carlstadt,  at  Luther's  invitation,  took  a  seat  opposite  to  him, 
and  then  said,  "  Doctor,  you  have  in  your  sermon  of  this  day 
classed  me  with  those  who  inculcate  revolt  and  assassination. 
I  declare  that  such  a  charge  is  false." 

Luther. — "  I  did  not  name  j^ou ;  but  since  the  cap  fits, 
you  may  wear  it." 

A  momentary  pause  ensued. — Carlstadt  resumed :  "  I  am 
prepared  to  show  that  in  the  doctrine  of  the  sacrament  you 
have  contradicted  yourself,  and  that  from  the  days  of  the  apos- 
tles, no  one  has  preached  that  doctrine  so  purely  as  I  have 
done." 

Luther. — "  Write  then — establish  your  point." 

Carlstadt. — "  I  offer  you  a  public  discussion  at  Wittem- 
berg or  at  Erfurth,  if  you  promise  me  a  safe-conduct." 

Luther. — "  Never  fear,  Doctor  !" 

Carlstadt. — "  You  bind  me  hand  and  foot,  and  when  you 
have  deprived  me  of  the  power  to  defend  myself,  you  strike."* 

Silence  ensued. — Luther  resumed : — 

*  Ihr  bandet  mir  Hande  et  Fiisse,  darnach  schlugt  Ihr  mich.  (L. 
Opp.  xix.  p.  150. 


176  LUTHER    AT    ORLAMUND. 

"  Write  against  me — but  openly — and  not  in  secret." 
Carlstadt. — "  If  I  were  but  assured  you  were  in  earnest 
in  what  you  say,  I  would  do  so." 

Luther. — "  Set  about  it ; — here — take  this  florin." 
Carlstadt. — "  Where  is  it  ?     I  accept  the  challenge." 
At  these  words,  Luther  thrust  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and 
producing  a  gold  florin,  said,  as  he  gave  it  to  Carlstadt,  "  Take 
it,  and  attack  me  like  a  man." 

Carlstadt,  holding  the  gold  florin  in  his  hand,  and  turning 
to  the  assembly,  said,  "  Dear  brethren,  this  is  to  me  araho,  a 
pledge  that  I  have  authority  to  write  against  Luther ;  I  call 
you  all  to  witness  this" 

Then  bending  the  florin,  that  he  might  know  it  again,  he 
put  it  into  his  purse,  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Luther.  The 
latter  pledged  him.  Carlstadt  returned  his  civility.  "  The 
more  vigorous  your  attacks,  the  better  I  shall  like  them,"  re- 
sumed Luther. 

"  If  I  fail,"  answered  Carlstadt,  "  the  fault  will  be  mine." 
They  once  more  shook  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  Carl- 
stadt returned  to  his  lodging. 

Thus,  says  an  historian,  as  from  a  single  spark  a  fire  often 
originates  which  consumes  in  its  progress  the  vast  forest,  so, 
from  this  small  beginning,  a  great  division  in  the  Church  took 
its  rise.* 

Luther  set  forward  for  Orlamund,  and  arrived  there  but  in- 
differently prepared  by  the  scene  at  Jena.  He  assembled  the 
council  and  the  church,  and  said,  "  Neither  the  Elector  nor 
the  University  will  acknowledge  Carlstadt  as  your  pastor." — 
"  If  Carlstadt  is  not  our  pastor,"  replied  the  treasurer  of  the 
town-council,  "  why  then,  St.  Paul  is  a  false  teacher,  and  your 
writings  are  mere  falsehood,— for  we  have  chosen  him."t 

*  Sicut  una  scintilla  saepe  totam  gylvam  comburit.  (M.  Adam,  Vit. 
Carlst.  p.  83.)  Our  account  is  chiefly  derived  from  the  Ads  of  Rein- 
Jiardj  pastor  of  Jena,  an  eye-witness, — but  a  friend  of  Carlstadt, — and 
taxed  with  inaccuracy  by  Luther. 

t  How  remarkable  is  this  incident !  On  this  passage  the  translator 
had  made  a  note  which  he  will  here  insert  for  the  confirmation  of  those 
who,  though  only  '  two  or  three '  in  any  one  place,  are  acting  in  con- 


INTERVIEW     A.T    ORLAMUND.  177 

As  he  said  this,  Carlstadt  entered  the  room.  Some  of  those 
who  happened  to  be  next  to  Luther,  made  signs  to  hiin  to  be 
seated,  but  Carlstadt,  going  straight  up  to  Luther,  said,  "  Dear 
Doctor,  if  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  give  you  induction." 

Luther. — "  You  are  my  antagonist.  1  have  fixed  you  bj'- 
the  pledge  of  a  florin." 

Carlstadt. — "  I  will  be  3rour  antagonist  so  long  as  you 
are  opposed  to  God  and  his  truth." 

Luther. — "  Leave  the  room ;  I  cannot  allow  of  your  being 
present." 

Carlstadt. — '•  This  is  an  open  meetivig, — if  your  cause 
is  good,  why  fear  nie?" 

Luther,  to  his  attendant : — "  Go, — put  the  horses  to  :  I 

fidence  in  the  sufficiency  of  '  God  and  the  word  of  His  grace '  to 
*  build  them  up.' 

If  the  conference  had  been  really  carried  on  in  the  reverential  sense 
of  the  presence  of  the  Spirit,  (Acts  i.  24,  Eph.  ii.  2-2.)  it  might  have 
been  asked,  and  so  have  come  down  to  us,  on  what  passage  in  St.  Paul 
these  persons  grounded  their  choosing  of  their  pastor. 

But  would  not  the  recognition  of  His  jvrssnce  have  led  to  the  ac- 
knowlf dgment  of  His  'dividing'  gifts  to  the  mutually  dependant 
members,  (1  Cor.  xii.  25.  xiv.  31.)  'according  to  His  own  will"? 
(1  Cor.  xii.  11.)  and  so  have  prevented  the  assertion  of  a  right  on  their 
part  to  elect, — much  less  to  elect  to  exdnsive  pastorship  1 

Luther  was  a  brother,  and  one  not  meanly  gifted  for  service  to  the 
body ; — might  it  not  have  been  expected  that  Carlstadt.  calling-  to  mind 
Romans  xii.  and  1  Cor.  xiv.  3,  31,  would  have  welcomed  the  word  of 
Luther  in  the  little  church  of  Orlamund, — and  that  that  word  would 
have  been  just  the  veiy  corrective,  or  rather  complement,  needed  by  tlie 
peculiarity  of  Carlstadt's  teaching, — for  as  M.  D'Aubigne  has  observed, 
the  turn  of  mind  of  each  had  its  value. 

Instead  of  this,  we  find  the  Great  Reformer  saying,  "  The  Elector 
and  the  University  will  not  acknowledge  Carlstadt  as  your  pastor;'/ 
and  the  church  of  Orlamund  replying.  "  We  have  chosen  him;" — 
the  two  forms  of  disobedient  limiling  of  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit,  with 
which  Christians  have  become  so  flimiliar, — and  which,  in  their  want 
of  faith,  almost  all  are  helping  to  perpetuate. 

See  the  reflections  at  the  opening  of  the  Xlth  Book  of  this  history. 
The  heart  that  is  exercised  by  these  things  should  consider  John  xiv. 
16,  2G;  xvi.  7;  xvii.  21 ;  Acts  v.  3;  Rom.  viii.  9;  1  Cor.  xi.  2;  xiv. 
37;   Eph.  iv.  IG;    1  Th.  iv.  18  5  v.  11;    Heb.  iii.  13. 


178  ON    THE    WORSHIP    OF    I>IAGES. 

have  nothing  to  say  here  to  Carlstadt;  and  since  he  will  not 
leave,  I  shall  go."*  Luther  rose  from  his  seat,  upon  which 
Carlstadt  withdrew. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Luther  resumed  : — "  Only  prove 
from  the  Scripture  that  it  is  our  duty  to  destroy  images." 

One  of  the  Town  Council. — "  Doctor,  you  will  allow, 
I  suppose,  that  Moses  was  acquainted  with  God's  command- 
ments." This  said,  he  opened  his  Bible.  "Well,  here  are 
his  words, — '  Thou  shalt  not  make  to  thyself  any  graven 
image,  nor  any  likeness^  "  &c. 

Luther. — "  The  passage  refers  only  to  images  for  idola- 
trous worship.  If  I  hang  up,  in  my  chamber,  a  crucifix,  and 
do  not  worship  it ;  what  harm  can  it  do  me  ?" 

A  Shoemaker. — "  I  have  often  touched  my  hat  before  an 
image  which  w^as  in  my  room,  or  on  my  mantlepiece.  It  is 
an  act  of  idolatry  which  robs  God  of  the  glory  due  to  Him 
alone." 

Luther. — "Would  you  think  it  necessary,  then,  because 
they  are  abused,  to  put  your  women  to  death,  and  pour  your 
wine  into  the  gutter."t 

Another  Member  of  the  Church. — "No:  they  are 
God's  creatures,  which  we  are  not  commanded  to  destioy." 

The  conference  had  lasted  some  time.  Luther  and  his  at- 
tendant returned  to  their  carriage,  astonished  at  the  scene  they 
had  witnessed,  and  having  failed  to  convince  the  inhabitants, 
who  claimed  for  themselves  the  right  of  interpreting  and  freely 
expounding  the  Scripture.  Agitation  reigned  in  Orlamund. 
The  people  insulted  Luther ;  and  some  even  called  after  him, 
■ — "  Begone  !  in  the  name  of  all  the  devils ;  and  may  you 
break  your  neck  before  you  are  out  of  our  town."|  Never 
had  the  Reformer  had  to  undergo  such  contemptuous  treat- 
ment. 

*  Spann  an,  spann  an.     (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  154.) 
t  So  muss  du  des  Missbrauchs  halber  auch.     (Ibid.  p.  ISS.) 
+  Two  of  the  most  distinguished  living  historians  of  Germany  add, 
that  Luther  was   pelted  by   the  inhabitants;   but  Luther  tells  us   the 
contrary  :— "  Dass  ich  nit  mit  Steinen  und  Dreck  ausgeworffen  wartj." 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  579.) 


CARLSTADT  BANISHED.  179 

He  repaired  thence  to  Kale,  the  pastor  of  which  place  had 
also  embraced  the  views  of  Carlstadt.  He  resolved  to  preach 
a  sermon  there  ;  but  on  entering  the  pulpit,  he  found  the 
broken  fragments  of  a  crucifix.  At  first  his  emotion  over- 
came him  ;  but  recovering  himself,  he  gathered  up  the  pieces 
into  one  corner  of  the  pulpit,  and  delivered  a  discouise  in 
which  he  made  no  allusion  to  the  circumstance.  "Idetei- 
mined,"  said  he,  speaking  of  it  in  after  life,  "  to  revenge  my- 
self on  the  devil  by  this  contempt  for  him.''^ 

The  nearer  the  Elector's  life  drew  to  a  close,  the  more  did 
he  appear  to  dread  lest  men  should  go  too  far  in  the  work  of 
Reformation.  He  issued  orders  to  deprive  Carlstadt  of  his 
appointments,  and  banished  him,  not  only  from  Orlamund,  but 
from  the  states  of  the  Electorate.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
Church  of  Orlamund  interceded  in  his  behalf, — in  vain  did 
they  petition  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  reside  among  them 
as  a  private  citizen,  with  leave  occasionally  to  preach, — in 
vain  did  they  represent  that  the  word  of  God  was  dearer  to 
them  than  the  Avhole  world,  or  even  a  thousand  worlds.* 
Frederic  was  deaf  to  their  entreaties,  and  he  even  wenf  the 
length  of  refusing  the  unhappy  Carlstadt  the  funds  necessarily 
required  for  his  journey.  Luther  had  nothing  to  do  with  this 
sternness  on  the  part  of  the  Prince  :  it  was  foreign  to  his  dis- 
position,— and  this  he  afterwards  proved.  But  Carlstadt  looked 
at  him  as  the  author  of  his  disgrace,  and  filled  Germany  with 
his  complaints  and  lamentations.  He  wrote  a  farewell  letter 
to  his  friends  at  Orlamund.  The  bells  were  tolled,  and  the 
letter  read  in  presence  of  the  sorrowing  Church. f  It  was 
signed — "  Andrew  Bodenstein,  expelled  by  Luther,  uncon- 
victed, and  without  even  a  hearing" 

It  is  impossible  not  to  feel  a  pain  at  contemplating  these 
two  men,  once  friends,  and  both  worthy  of  our  esteem,  thus 
angrily  opposed.  Sadness  took  possession  of  the  souls  of  the 
disciples  of  the  Reformation.     What  would  be  the  end  of  it, 

*  Hoher  als  tausend  Welten.     (Seek.  p.  628.) 

t  CLuJB  publice  vocatis  per  carapanas  lectse  sunt  omnibus  simul  flen- 
tibu3.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  558.) 


180       CARLSTADT  RETURNS  TO  STRASBURG. 

when  thus  its  bravest  defenders  turned  one  against  another? 
Luther  could  discern  these  fears,  and  endeavoured  to  allay 
them.  "Let  us  contend,"  said  he,  "as  those  who  fight  for 
another.  It  is  God's  cause  :*  the  care  of  it  belongs  to  God, — 
the  work,  the  victory,  and  the  glory,  all  are  His.  He  will  fight 
for  it,  and  prevail,  though  we  should  stand  still.  Whatever 
He  decrees  should  fall,  let  it  fall, — whatever  He  wills  should 
stand,  let  that  stand.  It  is  no  cause  of  our  own  that  is  at  stake; 
and  we  seek  not  our  own  glory." 

Carlstadt  sought  refuge  at  Strasburg,  where  he  publ'shecl 
several  writings.  '■  He  was  well  acquainted,"  says  Doctor 
Scheur,  "with  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew;"  and  Luther  ac- 
knowledged him  to  be  his  superior  in  learning.  Endowed 
with  great  powers  of  mind,  he  sacrificed  to  his  convictions 
fame,  station,  country,  and  even  his  bread.  At  a  later  period 
of  his  life  he  visited  Switzerland.  There,  it  might  seem,  he 
ought  to  have  commenced  his  teaching.  The  independence 
of  his  spirit  needed  the  free  air  breathed  by  the  Qilcolampa- 
diuses  and  Zwingles.  His  instructions  soon  attracted  an  at- 
tention nearly  equal  to  that  which  had  been  excited  by  the 
earliest  theses  put  forth  by  Luther.  Switzerland  seemed  al- 
most gained  over  to  his  doctrine.  Bucer  and  Capiio  also 
appeared  to  adopt  his  views. 

Then  it  was  that  Luther's  indignation  rose  to  its  height ; 
and  he  put  forth  one  of  the  most  powerful  but  also  most  out- 
rageous of  his  controversial  writings, — his  book  '■'  Against 
the.  Celestial  Provhets.^'' 

Thus  the  Reformation,  hunted  down  by  the  Pope,  the  Em- 
peror, and  the  Princes,  began  to  tear  its  own  vitals.  It  seemed 
to  be  sinking  under  accumulated  evils;  and  surely  it  would 
have  been  lost  if  it  had  been  a  work  of  man.  But  soon  from 
the  very  brink  of  ruin  it  rose  again  in  renewed  energy. 

The  Catholic  League  of  Ratisbon,  and  the  persecutions  that 
followed  close  upon  it,  created  a  powerful  popular  re-action. 
The  Germans  were  not  disposed  to  surrender  that  word  of 

*  Causa  Dei  est,  cura  Dei  est,  opus  Dei  est,  victoria  Dei  est,  gloria 
Dei  est,     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  556.) 


ASSEMBLY    AT    SPIRES.  181 

God  of  which  they  had  recovered  possession ;  and  when 
orders  to  that  effV'Ct  came  to  them  from  Charles  V.,  though 
backed  by  papal  bulls  and  the  faggots  of  Ferdinand,  and  other 
Catholic  Princes,  they  returned  for  an  answer, — "  We  will  not 
give  it  up." 

No  sooner  had  the  members  of  the  League  taken  their  de- 
parture from  Ratisbon,  when  the  deputies  of  the  towns  whose 
bishops  had  taken  part  in  that  alliance,  surprised  and  indig- 
nant, assembled  at  Spires,  and  passed  a  law,  that,  notwithstand- 
ing the  episcopal  prohibitions,  their  preachers  should  confine 
themselves  to  the  proclamation  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  Gospel 
only,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  the  apostles  and  prophets. 
They  proceeded  to  prepare  a  report,  couched  in  firm  and  con- 
sistent terms,  to  be  presented  to  the  assembly  of  their  nation. 

The  Emperor's  letter,  dated  fiom  Burgos,  came  unseason- 
ably to  disturb  their  plans.  Nevertheless,  toward  the  close 
of  that  year,  the  deputies  of  the  towns  and  many  nobles  assem- 
bling at  Ulm,  bound  themselves  by  solemn  oath  to  assist  one 
another,  in  case  of  an  attack. 

Thus  the  free  cities  opposed  to  the  camp  that  had  been 
formed  by  Austria,  Bavaria,  and  the  bishops,  another,  in 
which  the  standard  of  the  Gospel  and  of  the  national  liberties 
was  unfurled. 

Whilst  the  cities  were  placing  themselves  in  the  van  of  the 
Reformation,  several  princes  were,  about  the  same  time, 
gained  over  to  its  ranks.  In  the  beginning  of  June,  1524, 
Melancthon  was  returning,  on  horseback,  from  a  visit  to  his 
mother,  in  company  with  Camerarius  and  some  other  friends, 
when,  approaching  Frankfort,  he  met  a  brilliant  retinue; — it 
was  Philip,  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  who,  three  years  previously, 
"had  visited  Luther  at  Worms,  and  was  now  on  his  way  to  the 
games  of  Heidelberg,  where  most  of  the  princes  of  Germany 
were  expected  to  be  present. 

Thus  did  Providence  bring  Philip  successively  in  contact 
with  the  two  leading  Reformers.  It  was  known  that  the  cele- 
brated Doctor  was  gone  on  a  journey  to  his  birth-place.  One 
of  the  horsemen  who  accompanied  the  Landgrave  remarked, 

VOL.    III.  16 


182        ABRIDGMENT    CF    THE    REFORMED    DOCTRINE. 

— "It  is  Melanctbon,  I  think."  Immediately  the  young 
Prince  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  coming-  up  with  the  Doctor, 
enquired, — "Is  your  name  Pliilip  ?"  "It  is,"  replied  he, 
drawing  back  timidly,  and  preparing  respectfully  to  alight.* 
"  Keep  your  saddle,"  said  the  Prince,  "  turn  your  horse's  head, 
and  come  stay  one  night  with  me;  there  are  some  things  I 
want  to  speak  with  you  about.  Fear  nothing."  "  What  can 
I  fear  from  a  prince  like  yourself!"  rejoined  the  Doctor. 
"Ah,  ah!"  said  the  Landgrave,  laughing,  "if  I  were  only 
to  carry  you  off',  and  hand  you  over  to  Campeggio,  he  would 
not  be  a  little  pleased,  I  suspect."  The  two  Philips  rode  on- 
ward, side  by  side, — the  Prince  asking  questions  and  the 
Doctor  answering;  and  the  Landgrave  delighted  with  the 
clear  and  impressive  views  that  were  opened  before  him.  At 
length,  Melancthon  entreating  him  to  permit  him  to  continue 
his  journey,  Philip  reluctantly  parted  with  him.  "On  one 
condition,"  said  he,  "and  that  is,  that,  on  your  return  home, 
you  should  treat  fully  the  questions  we  have  discussed. f  and 
send  me  your  thoughts  in  writing."  Melancthon  promised. 
"Go.  then,"  said  Philip,  "and  pass  freely  through  my  states." 
Melancthon,  with  his  accustomed  talent,  prepared  an 
AbridgT/ieut  of  the  Reformed  Doctrine  of  Christianity  ;\ 
and  this  tract,  remarkable  foi  its  conciseness  and  force  of  argu- 
ment, made  a  df  cided  impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  Lnnd- 
grave.  Shortly  after  his  return  from  the  Heidelberg  games, 
this  Prince  issued  an  edict,  in  which,  without  connecting  him- 
self with  the  free  towns,  he  opposed  the  League  of  Ratisbon, 
and  directed  that  the  Gospel  should  be  preached  in  all  its 
purity.  He  embraced  it  himself,  with  the  energy  that 
marked  his  character.  "Rather,"  exclaimed  he,  "vvould  I 
sacrifice  my  body,  my  life,  my  estates,  and  my  subjects,  than 
the  word  of  God  !"  A  Franciscan  friar,  named  Ferber,  per- 
ceiving this  inclination  of  the  Prince  in  favour  of  the  Refor- 

*  Honoris  causa  tie  equo  descensurus.     (Camerarius,  p.  94.) 
+  Ut  de  quaestionibus  quas  audiissct   moveri,  aliquid  diligenter  con- 
scriptum  curaret.     (Ibid.) 

%  EpitotBe  renovataj  ecclesiasticae  doctrinae. 


ALBERT    OF    BRANDENBURG.  183 

mation,  wrote  him  a  letter  filled  with  reproaches  and  entreaties 
to  continue  faithful  to  Rome.  "  I  am  resolved,"  answered 
Philip,  "to  b3  faithful  to  the  ancient  doctrine, — but  as  I  find 
it  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures:"  and  he  proceeded  to  prove,  with 
much  clearness  of  statement,  that  man  is  justified  by  faith  alone. 
The  monk,  confounded,  made  no  reply.*  The  Landgrave 
was  commonly  spoken  of  as  "the  disciple  of  ]Melancthon."t 

Other  Piinces  followed  the  same  course.  The  Elector 
Palatine  refused  to  countenance  the  slightest  perseciition  ;  the 
Duke  of  Luneburg-,  nephew  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  began 
the  Reformation  in  his  dominions  ;  and  the  King  of  Denmark 
gave  orders  that,  throughout  Sleswick  and  Holstein,  everyone 
should  be  at  liberty  to  worship  God  according  as  his  con- 
science dictated. 

The  Reformation  gained  a  victory  yet  more  important.  A 
Prince,  whose  conversion  to  Gospel  truth  involved  consequen- 
ces most  momentous  to  our  own  times,  now  evinced  a  disposi- 
tion to  withdraw  from  Rome.  One  day,  towards  the  end  of 
June,  shortly  after  the  return  of  Melancthon  to  Wittemberg, 
Albert,  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  and  Grand  Master  of  the 
Teutonic  Order,  entered  Luther's  apartment.  This  chief  of 
the  monastic  knights  of  Germany,  who  then  governed  Prus- 
sia, had  repaired  to  the  Diet  of  Nuremberg,  to  invoke  the  aid 
of  the  Empire  against  Poland.  He  returned  broken  in  spirit. 
On  one  hand,  Osiander's  preaching,  and  the  reading  of  the 
New  Testament,  had  convinced  him  that  his  monk's  vow 
was  contrary  to  the  word  of  God  ;  on  the  other,  the  suppression 
of  the  national  government  in  Germany  had  deprived  him  of 
"Uhope  of  obtaining  the  assistance  which  he  had  come  to  so- 
iicit.  What  was  to  be  done  .  .  .  .  ?  The  Saxon  councillor, 
De  Plrinitz,  in  whose  company  he  had  left  Nuremberg,  pro- 
posed to  him  to  seek  an  interview  with  the  Reformer.  "What 
think  you,"  said  the  anxious  and  agitated  Prince  to  Luther, 
"  of  the  rule  of  our  order  ?"     Luther  did  not  hesitate  :  he  cavT 

*  Seckendorf,  p.  "3^. 

t  Princeps  ille  discipulus  Philippi  fuit  a  quibusdam  |  appellatns. 
(Camer.  p.  95  ) 


184  THE    WORD    OF    GOD    NOT    BOUND. 

that  a  course  of  conduct  in  conformity  with  the  Gospel  was^ 
also,  the  only  means  of  saving-  Prussia.  "  Look  to  God  for 
assistance,"  said  he,  to  the  Grand  Master,  "and  reject  the 
senseless  and  inconsistent  rule  of  your  order ;  put  an  end  to 
your  detestable  hermaphrodite  principality,  neither  religious 
nor  secular;*  away  with  mere  pretended  chastity,  and  seek 
that  which  is  the  true.  Take  a  wife — and  become  the  founder 
of  a  legitimate  empire,  in  the  place  of  that  anomalous  mon- 
ster."! These  words  set  clearly  before  the  mind  of  the  Grand 
Master  a  state  of  things  which  he  had  as  yet  seen  but  indis- 
tinctly. A  smile  lighted  up  his  countenance  ;  but  he  was  too 
prudent  to  give  utterance  to  his  thoughts!  Melancthon,  who 
was  present,  spoke  to  the  same  effect  as  Luther,  and  the  Prince 
set  out  to  return  to  his  dominions,  leaving  the  Reformers  in 
the  confident  hope  that  the  seed  which  they  had  sown  would 
sink  down  into  his  heart,  and  one  day  bring  forth  fruit. 

Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  Charles  the  Fifth  and  the  Pope  had 
opposed  the  national  assembly  at  Spires,  fearing  lest  the  Word 
of  God  should  win  over  all  present ;  but  the  Word  of  God 
was  not  bound.  It  was  denied  a  hearing  in  a  hall  of  a  town 
of  the  Lower  Palatinate.  But  what  then  ? — it  burst  forth  and 
spread  throughout  the  provinces,  stirring  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple, enlightening  the  Princes  and  developing  that  Divine  power^ 
of  which  neither  Bulls  nor  Ordinances  can  ever  divest  it. 

Whilst  nations  and  their  rulers  were  thus  coming  to  the 
light,  the  Reformers  were  endeavouring  to  remould  every 
thing  by  the  infusion  of  the  true  principles  of  Christianity. 
Public  worship  first  engaged  their  attention.  The  moment^ 
anticipated  by  the  Reformer,  when  returning  from  the  Waitburg, 
had  arrived:  "  Now,"  said  he,  "that  hearts  have  been  foitifi- 
ed  by  Divine  Grace,  we  must  put  away  those  things  which 
defile  the  Lord's  kingdom,  and  attempt  to  do  something  in  the 
Name  of  Jesus."     He  required  that  the  communion  should  be 

*  Ut  loco  illius  aborainabilis  principatus,  qui  hermaphrodita  quidam. 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  527.) 

t  Ut  contemi  ta  ista  stulta  confusaque  regula,  uxorem  duceret.  (Ibid.) 
t  Ille  turn  arrisit,  sed  nihil  respondit.     (Ibid.) 


ALL  saints'  church.  185 

taken  under  both  kinds  ;  that  the  Supper  should  be  cleared  of 
every  thing-  which  gave  to  it  the  character  of  a  sacrifice  ;* 
that  Christians  should  never  assemble  themselves  together 
without  having  the  word  of  God  preached  to  them  ;t  that  the 
flock,  or  at  least  the  priests  and  studtnts,  should  meet  every 
morning  at  four  or  five  o'clock,  to  read  the  Old  Testament, 
and  every  evening  at  five  or  six  o'clock,  to  read  the  New  Tes- 
tament ;  that  on  Sundays  the  whole  church  should  meet  to- 
gether, morning  and  afternoon,  and  that  the  great  object  of  the 
services  should  be  to  sound  abroad  the  Word  of  God.^ 

The  church  of  All  Saints,  at  Wittemberg,  especially  called 
forth  his  indignation.  In  it,  (to  quote  the  words  of  Seckendorf,) 
9,901  masses  were  annually  celebrated,  and  35,570  lbs.  of 
wax  annually  consumed.  Luther  called  it  "  the  sacrilege  of 
Tophet."  "There  are,"  said  he,  "only  three  or  four  lazy 
monks  who  still  worship  this  shameful  Mammon;  and  if  I 
had  not  restrained  the  people,  this  abode  of  all  Saints,  or  rather 
of  all  Devils,  would  have  been  brought  down  with  a  crash 
such  as  the  w^orld  has  never  yet  heard." 

It  w^as  in  connection  wnth  this  church  that  the  conflict 
began.  It  resembled  those  ancient  sanctuaries  of  heathen 
worship  in  Egypt,  Gaul,  and  Germany,  which  were  ordain- 
ed to  fall,  that  Christianity  might  be  established  in  their  place. 

Luther,  earnestly  desiring  that  the  mass  should  be  abolish- 
ed in  this  cathedral,  addressed  to  the  chapter  on  the  1st  March, 
1523,  a  requisition  to  that  effect,  following  it  up  by  a  second 
letter  dated  the  11th  Ju\j.^  The  canons  having  pleaded  the 
Elector's  orders, — "  What,  in  this  case,  have  we  to  do  with 
the  prince's  orders?"  remarked  Luther:  "he  is  but  a  secular 
prince ;  his  business  is  to  bear  the  sword,  and  not  to  interfere 
in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel." ||      Luther  here  clearly  marks 

*  Weisc  christliche  Messe  zu  halten.     (L.  0pp.  (L.)  xxii.  p.  232.) 

t  Die  christliche  Gemeine  nimmer  soil  zusammen  kommen,  es  werde 
denn  daselbst  Gottes  Wort  geprediget.     (L.  0pp.  xxii.  226.) 

t  Dass  das  Wort  irn  Schwange  gehe.     (Ibid.) 

§  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  308,  and  854. 

II  Welchem  gebiihrt  das  Schwerd,  nicht  das  Predigtamt  zu  vw- 
sorgen.     (L.  0pp.  xviii.  p.  497.) 

16* 


186  ABOLITION    OF    THE    MASS. 

the  distinction  between  the  State  and  the  Church.  "  There 
is,"  said  he  again,  "  but  one  sacrifice  to  put  away  sins, — 
Christ,  who  has  offered  himself  once  for  all;  and  we  are  par- 
takers thereof,  not  by  any  works  or  sacrifices  of  ours, — but 
solely  through  belief  of  the  word  of  God." 

The  Elector,  feeling  his  end  approaching,  was  averse  from 
further  change. 

But  entreaties  from  other  quarters  came  in  aid  of  those  of 
Luther.  "  It  is  high  time  to  act,"  wrote  the  cathedral 
provost,  Jonas,  to  the  Elector:  "such  a  shining  forth  of 
Gospel  truth,  as  that  which  we  have  at  this  hour,  does  not 
ordinarily  last  longer  than  a  sunbeam.  Let  us  then  lose  no 
time."* 

This  letter  of  Jonas,  not  having  changed  the  Elector's 
dews,  Luther  became  impatient;  he  judged  that  the  time  had 
come  to  strike  the  final  blow,  and  he  addressed  a  letter  of 
menace  to  the  chapter.  "  1  beg  of  you,  as  a  friend ; — I  desire 
and  seriously  urge  it  upon  you  to  put  an  end  to  this  sectarian 
worship.  If  you  refuse  to  do  so,  you  shall.  God  helping, 
receive  the  punishment  which  you  will  have  deserved.  I  say 
this  for  your  guidance,  and  I  request  an  immediate  reply — . 
yes,  or  no — before  Sunday  next,  in  order  that  I  may  consider 
what  I  have  to  do.    God  give  you  grace  to  follow  His  light.f 

Martin  Luther. 

«  Tkursday,  Dec  8tk,  1524."  "  Preacher  at  Wittemberg." 

At  this  juncture  the  rector,  two  burgomasters,  and  ten  coun- 
Gillbrs,  waited  upon  the  Dean,  and  begged  him,  in  the  name 
of  the  university,  of  the  council,  and  of  the  commune  of  Wit- 
temberg, "to  abolish  the  great  and  horrible  impiety  committed 
against  the  majesty  of  God,  in  the  celebration  of  mass." 

The  chapter  found  it  necessary  to  give  way,  and  declared 
that,  enlightened  by  the  word  of  God.|  they  acknowledged 
the  abuses  which  had  been  denounced,  and  published  a  new 

♦  Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  636. 
t  L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  565. 

I  Durch  das  Licht  des  heiligen  gottlichen  Wortes (L.  0pp. 

ardii.  p.  bG2.) 


NATURE    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  187 

order  of  service,  which  began  to  be  observed  on  Christmas 
Day,  1524. 

Thus  ffll  the  Mass,  in  this  renowned  snnctuary,  where  it 
had  so  long-  held  out  against  the  reiterated  attacks  of  the  Re- 
formers. The  Elector  Frederic,  suffering  from  gout,  and 
drawing  near  his  end,  could  not,  by  any  efforts  of  his,  retard 
this  gieat  triumph  of  the. Reformation.  He  saw  in  it  the  will 
of  God,  and  submitted  to  it.  The  cessation  of  Romish  observ- 
ances, in  the  church  of  All  Saints,  hastened  their  abolition  in 
many  of  the  churches  of  Christendom.  In  all  quarters  there 
was  similar  resistance,  but  also  the  like  victory.  Vainly  did 
priests,  and  even  princes  in  many  places,  try  to  interpose  ob- 
stacles ;  they  could  eff*ect  nothing. 

It  was  not  alone  in  public  worship  that  the  Reformation 
was  ordained  to  work  a  change.  Education  was  very  early 
associated  with  the  Reformed  Church,  and  these  two  institu- 
tions, in  their  power  to  regenerate  mankind,  were  alike  invigo- 
rated by  its  influence.  It  was  in  intimate  alliance  with  letters 
that  the  Reformation  had  made  its  appearance  in  the  world ; 
and,  in  the  hour  of  its  triumph,  it  did  not  forget  its  ally. 

Christianity  is  not  a  mere  expansion  of  Judaism ;  its  great 
end  is  not  again  to  envelop  man,  as  the  Papacy  seeks  to  do,  in 
the  swaddling  bands  of  outward  ordinances  and  man's  teach- 
ing. Christianity  is  a  new  creation  ;  it  takes  possession  of  the 
inward  man,  and  transforms  him  in  the  innermost  principles 
of  his  nature;  so  that  he  needeth  not  human  teaching,  but,  by 
God's  help,  is  able,  of  himself,  and  ly  himself,  to  discern  that 
which  is  true,  and  to  do  that  which  is  right."* 

To  bring  man  to  that  maturity  which  Christ  has  purchased 
for  him,  and  to  emancipate  him  from  the  tutelage  in  which 
Rome  had  so  long  held  him  bound,  the  Reformation  must 
needs  develop  the  whole  man;  and,  while  by  the  Word  of 
God  it  regenerated  his  heart  and  will,  it  enlightened  his  un- 
derstanding by  the  study  of  sacred  and  profane  literature. 

Luther  understood  this  ;  he  felt  that  to  consolidate  the  Re- 
formation, he  must  work  on  the  minds  of  the  rising  genera- 
♦  Heb.  chap.  viii.  11. 


188  LETTER    TO    COtNCILLORS. 

tion,  remodel  the  schools,  and  propagate  throng-houc  Christen- 
dom the  knowledge  necessary  ibr  a  depp  study  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  This,  therefore,  was  one  of  the  objects  of  his  life. 
He  was  especially  impress^^^d  with  this  conviction,  at  this  pe- 
riod of  his  history,  and,  accordingly,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  the 
councillors  of  all  the  towns  in  Germany,  urging  them  to  found 
Christian  schools.  "  Dear  sirs,"  said  he,  "so  much  money  is 
annually  expended  in  arquebuses,  making  roads,  and  construct- 
ing dykes, — how  is  it  that  a  little  is  not  expended  in  paying 
one  or  two  schoolmasters  to  instruct  our  poor  children  ?  God 
stands  at  the  door,  and  knocks;  blessed  are  we  if  we  open 
to  Him!  Now-a-days,  there  is  no  famine  of  God's  word. 
My  dear  countrymen,  buy,  buy,  whilst  the  market  is  opened 
before  your  dwelhngs.  The  Wo^'d  of  God  and  His  grace  re- 
sembles a  shower  which  falls  and  passes  on.  It  fell  among 
the  JeAvs:  but  it  passed  away,  and  now  th^y  have  it  no  longer. 
Paul  bore  it  with  him  to  Greece;  but  there  also  it  is  passed, 
and  Mahometanism  prevails  in  its  place.  It  came  to  Rome 
and  the  Latin  territorips;  but  from  thence  it  likewise  depaited. 
and  now  Rome  has  the  Pope.*  O  I  Germans,  think  not  that  you 
will  never  have  that  Word  taken  away  from  you.  The  little 
value  you  put  upon  it  will  cause  it  to  be  withdra^yn.  There- 
fore, he  who  would  have  it.  must  lay  hold  upon  and  keep  it.  ' 

"  Let  our  youth  be  the  objects  of  your  care,"  he  continued, 
addressing  the  magistrates,  "for  many  parents  are  like  the 
ostrich,  their  hearts  are  hardened  against  their  young,  and,  sa- 
tisfied with  having  laid  the  egg,  they  give  themselves  no  fur- 
ther tiouble  about  it.  The  prosperity  of  a  town  does  not  con- 
sist in  amassing  wealth,  erecting  walls,  building  mansions,  and 
the  possession  of  arms.  If  attacked  by  a  party  of  madmen,  its 
ruin  and  devastation  would  only  be  the  more  terrible.  The  true 
well-being  of  a  town,  its  security,  its  strength,  is  to  number  with- 
in ti  many  learned,  serious,  kind,  and  well-educated  citizens. 
And  who  is  to  blame  that  there  are  found,  in  our  days,  so  few  of 
this  stamp,  but  you,  magistrates,  who  have  suffered  our  youth 
to  grow  up  like  the  neglected  growth  of  the  forest?" 

*  Aber  hin  ist  bin ;.  sie  haben  nun  den  Papst.  (L.  0pp.  W.  x.  535.) 


ON    THE    USE    OF    LEARNING.  189 

Luther  especially  insisted  on  the  necessity  for  the  study  of 
literature  and  languages  :  "  We  are  asked,"  says  he,  "  what 
is  the  use  of  learning  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  when  we 
can  read  the  Bible  in  German?     But,  for  the  languages,"  he 
replied,  "we  should  never  have  received  the  Gospel  .  .   Lan- 
guages are  the  scabbard  in  which  the  sword  of  the  Spirit*  is 
found;  they  are  the  casket  which  holds  the  jewels  ;  they  are 
the  vessels  which  contain  the  new  wn'ne;  they  are  the  baskets 
in  which  are  kept  the  loaves  and  fishes  which  are  to  feed  the 
multitude.     If  we  cease  to  study  languages,  we  shall  not  only 
lose  the  Gospel,  but,  eventuallj'-,  we  shall  be  unable  either  to 
speak  or  write   in  Latin  or  in  German.     From  the  hour  we 
throw  them  aside,  Christianity  may  date  its  decline,  even  to 
falling  again  under  the  dominion  of  the  Pope.     But  now  that 
languages  are  once  more  held  in  estimation,  they  diffuse  such 
light  that  all  mankind  are  astonished — and  that  everyone  may 
see  that  the  Gospel  we  preach  is  almost  as  pure  as  that  of  the 
Apostles  themselves.     The  holy  Fathers  of  other  days,  made 
many  mistakes  by  reason  of  their  ignorance  of  languages  ;  in 
our  time,  some,  like  the  Vaudois  of  Piedmont,  do  not  attach 
value  to  the  study  of  them  ;  but  though  their  doctrine  may  be 
sound,  they  often  fail  of  the  real  meaning  of  the  Sacred  Text ; 
they  are  without  a  safeguard  against  error,  and  I  much  fear 
that  their  faith  will  not  continue  pure.f     If  a  knowledge  of 
languages  had  not  given  me  the  certainty  of  the  true  sense  of 
the  Word,  I  might  have  been  a  pious  monk,  quietly  preach- 
ing the  Truth  in  the  obscurity  of  the  cloister ;  but  I  should 
have  left  Pope,  sophists,  and  their  anti-christian  power  in  the 
ascendant."! 

But  Luther's  attention  was  not  limited  to  the  education  of 
ecclesi:)Stics; — he  was  desirous  that  learning  should  no  longer 
be  confined  to  the  Church  alone;  and  proposed  to  extend  it  to 

*  Die  Sprachen   siml  die  Scheide,  darinnen  dies  Messer  des  Geistea 

stecket.     (L.  0pp.  W.  x.  p.  535.) 

t  Es  sey  oder  werde  nicht  lauter  bleiben.     (L.  0pp.  W.  x.  p.  535.) 
t  Ich  hiitte  wohi  auch  konnen  fromm  seyn  und  in  der  Stille  rechte 

predigen.     (Ibid.) 


190  RELIGION    AND    THE    ARTS. 

the  laity,  who  had  hitherto  been  debarred  from  it  He  sug- 
gested the  establishment  of  libraries,  not  limited  merely  to 
works  and  commentaries  of  scholastic  divines  and  Fathers  of 
the  Church,  but  furnished  with  the  productions  of  orators  ar.d 
poets,  even  though  heathens,  as  also  with  books  of  literature, 
law,  medicine,  and  history.  "  Such  writings,"  said  he,  "are 
of  use  to  make  known  the  wonderful  v;orks  of  God." 

This  effort  of  Luther  is  one  of  the  most  important  the  Re- 
formation produced.  It  wrested  learning  from  the  hands  of 
the  priests.who  had  monopolised  it,  like  those  of  Egypt  in  an- 
cient times, — and  rendered  it  accessible  to  al'.  Fiom  this  im- 
pulse, derived  from  the  Reformation,  some  of  iLe  greatest  de- 
velopments of  later  ages  have  proceeded.  Literary  men,  and 
scholars  of  the  laity,  who  now-a-days  decry  the  Reformation, 
forget  that  they  are  themselves  its  offsprmg ;  and  tha',  but  for 
its  influence,  they  would  at  this  hour  be  like  half-educated  chil- 
dren, subject  to  the  tyrannical  authority  of  the  clergy.  The 
Reformation  recognised  the  intimate  connection  of  all  branches 
of  learning,  receiving  all  to  learn,  and  opening  all  the  avenues 
to  learning.  "  They  who  despise  general  literature,"  said 
Melancthon,  "  make  no  more  account  of  sacred  theology. 
Their  affected  contempt  is  but  a  pretext  to  conceal  their  indo- 
lence."* 

The  Reformation  not  only  communicated  a  mighty  impulse 
to  literature,  but  served  to  elevate  the  Arts,  although  Pro- 
testantism has  often  been  reproached  as  their  enemy.  Many 
Protestants  have  willingly  taken  up  anu  borne  this  reproach. 
We  will  not  examine  whether  or  not  the  Reformation  ought 
to  glory  in  it;  but  will  merely  remark,  that  impartial  history 
does  not  confirm  the  premises  on  which  the  clergy  rests.  Let 
Roman  Catholicism  pride  itself  in  bemg  more  faiourable  than 
Protestantism  to  the  arts.  Be  it  so  :  Paganism  ivas  ev^en  more 
so;  while  Protestantism  hath  somewhat  else  to  glory  in. 
There  are  some  religions  in  which  the  disposition  in  man  to  n 
taste  for  the  fine  arts  has  a  place  assigned  it  above  that  given 
to  his  moral  nature,      Christianity  is  distinguish'^d  from  these 

*  Hunc  titulum  ignavlse  suae  prsetcxtunt.     (C-^rp.  Ref.  i,  p.  613.) 


ESSENCE    OF    CHKISTIANITY.  191 

by  the  fact  th;  t  the  moral  element  is  its  essence.  Christian 
principle  manifests  itself,  not  in  procliictions  of  the  fine  aits, 
but  in  the  fruits  of  a  Christian  life.  Every  sect  that  forgets 
this  bearing  of  Christianity  upon  morals,  forfeits  its  claim  to 
the  name  of  Christian.  Rome  has  not  entirely  renounced  this 
essential  characteristic,  but  Protestantism  cherishes  it  in  flir 
greater  purity.  It  takes  pleasure  in  deep  acquaintance  with 
morals,  discriminating  religious  actions  not  by  their  outward 
appearance  and  effect  upon  the  imagination,  but  according  to 
their  inherent  worth,  and  their  bearing  upon  the  conscience; 
so  that,  if  the  Papacy  is  strongly  marked  as  an  esthetic  sys- 
tem, as  has  been  proved  by  an  able  w^riter,*  Protestantism  is 
equally  characterised  as  a  moral  sytem. 

Nevertheless,  the  Reformation,  while  primarily  appealing 
to  the  moral  sense,  addressed  the  whole  man.  We  have  seen 
how^  it  spoke  to  his  understanding,  and  what  it  did  for  litera- 
ture ;  it  spoke  also  to  his  se?isibilit]/ and  im.aginatimi,  and 
thereby  contributed  to  the  development  of  the  Arts.  The 
Church  was  no  longer  composed  exclusively  of  priests  and 
friars;  it  was  the  assembly  of  the  faithful;  all  were  to  take 
part  in  the  worship;  and  congregational  singing  was  to  take 
the  place  of  the  priests'  chaunting.  Luther,  in  translating  the 
Psalms,  had  in  view  their  adaptation  to  be  sung  in  the 
churches.  Thus  a  taste  for  Music  was  disseminated  through- 
out the  nation. 

"  Next  to  theology,"  said  Luther,  '•  it  is  to  Music  that  I  give 
the  highest  place  and  the  greatest  honour. f  A  schoolmaster," 
he  added,  "  ought  to  know  how  to  sing  ;  without  this  qualifi- 
cation I  w'oald  have  nothing  to  do  with  him." 

One  day,  when  some  fine  music  w^as  performing,  he  ex- 
claimed in  transport,  "  If  our  Lord  God  has  shed  forth  such 
wondrous  gifts  on  this  earth,  which  is  no  better  than  a  dark 
nook,  wuat  may  we  not  expect  in  that  eternal  life  in  w^hich 
we  shall  be  perfected."     From  the  days  of  Luther,  the  con- 

*  Chateaubriand,  Genie  tin  Christi  misme. 

t  Ich  gebe  nach  dcr  Theologie,  Jer  Musica  den  nahesten  Locum  und 
hochste  Ehre.     (L.  0pp.  W.  xxii.  p.  2253.) 


192  MUSIC    AND    POETRY. 

gregated  worshippers  have  taken  part  in  the  singing ;  the 
Bible  has  been  the  great  theme  of  their  songs,  and  the  impulse 
communicated  at  that  period  of  the  Reformation,  has  more  re- 
cently produced  those  noble  Oratorios,  which  have  carried  the 
art  to  its  highest  point  of  attainment. 

Poetry  participated  in  the  movement.  In  singing  the  praises 
of  God,  Christians  were  not  willing  to  restrict  themselves  to 
simple  renderings  of  ancient  hymns.  The  souls  of  Luther 
and  his  contemporaries,  elevated  by  faith  to  the  most  sublime 
contemplations,  roused  to  enthusiasm  by  the  dangers  and 
struggles  which  incessantly  threatened  the  infant  Church,  in- 
spired by  the  poetiy  of  the  Old.  and  the  hope  of  the  New 
Testament,  soon  began  to  pour  out  their  feelings  in  religious 
songs,  in  which  poetry  and  music  joined,  and  blended  their 
most  heavenly  accents;  and  thus  were  heard  reviving,  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  the  hymns  which,  in  the  first  century, 
soothed  the  sufferings  of  the  martyrs.  In  1523,  Luther,  as 
we  have  already  said,  consecrated  it  to  commemorate  the  mar- 
tyrs of  Brussels;  others  of  the  children  of  the  Reformation 
followed  his  example.  Many  were  the  hymns  composed,  and 
rapidly  circulated  among  the  people,  and  greatly  did  they 
contribute  to  arouse  their  slumbering  minds.  It  was  in  this 
same  year  Hans  Sach  Composed  the  "  Nightingale  of  Wit- 
temberg."  It  represented  the  teaching  that  had  been  current 
in  the  Church  for  four  centuries  as  a  moonlight  time  of  wan- 
dering in  the  deserts.  But  the  nightingale  proclaimed  the 
dawn,  and  soaring  above  the  morning  mist,  sang  the  praise 
of  day. 

Whilst  lyric  poesy  was  thus  deriving  from  the  Reforma- 
tion its  loftiest  inspiration,  satirical  verses  and  dramas,  from 
the  pen  of  Hutten,  Murner,  and  Manuel  were  attacking  the 
most  flagrant  corruptions. 

It  is  to  the  Reformation  that  the  great  poets  of  England, 
Germany,  and  perhaps  of  France,  are  indebted  for  the  highest 
flights  of  their  muse. 

Painting  was,  of  all  the  arts,  the  least  affected  by  the  Re- 
formation.    This,  nevertheless,  was  renovated,  and,  as  it  were, 


ABUSES    OF    PAINTING.  193 

hallowed  by  that  universal  movement  which  was  then  com- 
municated to  all  the  powers  of  man.  The  great  master  of 
that  age,  Lucas  Cranach,  settled  at  Wittemberg,  and  became 
the  painter  of  the  Reformation.  We  have  seen  how  he  repre- 
sented the  points  of  contrast  between  Christ  and  Antichrist 
(the  Pope,)  and  was  thus  among  the  most  influential  instru- 
ments in  that  change  by  which  the  nation  was  transformed. 
As  soon  as  he  had  received  new  convictions,  he  devoted  his 
chastened  pencil  solely  to  paintings  in  harmony  with  the 
thoughts  of  a  Christian,  and  gave  to  groups  of  children,  repre- 
sented as  blessed  by  the  Saviour,  that  peculiar  grace  with 
which  he  had  previously  invested  legendary  saints. 

Albert  Durer  was  one  of  those  who  were  attracted  by  the 
Word  of  Truth,  and  from  that  time,  a  new  impulse  was  given 
to  his  genius.  His  master-pieces  were  produced  subsequently 
to  conversion.  It  might  have  been  discerned,  from  the  style 
in  which  he  thenceforward  depicted  the  Evangelists  and 
Apostles,  that  the  Bible  had  been  restored  to  the  people,  and 
that  the  painter  derived  thence  a  depth,  power,  life-,  and  dignity, 
which  he  never  would  have  found  within  himself* 

It  must,  however,  be  admitted,  that,  of  all  the  arts.  Paint- 
ing is  that  one  whose  influtnce  upon  religion  is  most  open 
to  well  founded  and  strong  objection.  We  see  it  con- 
tinually connected  with  grievous  immorality  or  pernicious 
error;  and  those  who  have  studied  history,  or  visit*  d  Itnly, 
will  look  for  nothing  in  this  art  of  benefit  to  human-kind. 
Our  general  remark  holds  good  however,  notwithstanding 
this  exception. 

Thus  every  thing  progressed,  arts,  literature,  purity  of 
worship — and  the  minds  of  prince  and  people.  But  this  glo- 
rious harmony,  which  the  Gospel,  in  its  revival,  every  where 
produced,  was  on  the  eve  of  being  disturbed.  The  melody  of 
the  Wiitemberg  Nightingale  was  to  be  broken  in  upon  by  the 
howling  of  the  tempest,  and  the  roaiing  of  lions.  In  a  mo- 
ment a  cloud  overspread  Germany,  and  a  brilliant  day  was 
succeeded  by  a  night  of  profound  darkness. 

*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Geschichte,  ii.  p.  85.  * 
VOL.    III.  17 


194  INSURRECTION     OF    THE    PEASANTRY. 

A  political  ferment,  very  different  from  that  which  the  Gos- 
pel brings  with  it,  had  long  been  secretly  working  in  the 
Empire.  Sinking  under  secular  and  ecclesiastical  oppression, 
and,  in  some  of  the  states,  forming  part  of  the  seigneurial 
property  and  liable  to  sale  with  it,  the  people  began  to  threaten 
to  rise  in  insurrection,  and  burst  their  fetters.  This  spirit  of 
resistance  had  shown  itself  long  before  the  Reformation,  by 
various  symptoms  ;  and  even  at  that  time  a  feeling  of  religion 
had  mingled  with  the  political  elements  of  resistance.  It  was 
impossible,  in  the  sixteenth  centurj'^,  to  keep  asunder  two  prin- 
ciples so  intimately  associated  with  the  existence  of  nations. 
In  Holland,  at  the  close  of  the  preceding  century,  the  pea- 
santry had  made  an  insurrection,  representing  on  their  banners 
a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  cheese,  the  two  staple  articles  of  their 
poor  country.  The  "  alliance  of  the  shoes,^^  showed  itself 
first  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Spires,  in  1503;  and  in  1513, 
being  encouraged  by  the  priests,  it  was  re-acted  at  Brisgau. 
In  1514,  Wurtemburg  was  the  scene  of  "  the  league  of  poor 
Conrad,"  which  had  for  its  object  to  sustain,  by  the  revolt, 
"the  right  of  God."  In  1515,  Carinthia  and  Hungary  had 
been  the  theatre  of  terrible  commotions.  These  seditious 
movem^nls  had  been  arrested  by  torrents  of  blood ;  but  no  re- 
lief had  been  afforded  to  the  people.  A  political  reform  was, 
theiefore,  not  le-ss  evid»nily  needed  than  religious  reform. 
In  this  the  people  were  right ;  but  it  must  be  admitted,  that 
they  were  not  ripe  for  its  enjoyment. 

Since  the  commencement  of  the  Reformation  these  popular 
ferments  had  not  been  repesited  ;  men's  minds  were  absorbed 
with  other  thoughts.  Luther,  whose  penetrating  eye  had  dis- 
cerned the  condition  of  people's  minds,  had,  from  his  tower  in 
the  Wartburg,  addressed  to  them  some  serious  exhortations, 
of  a  nature  to  pacify  their  agitated  feelings  : — 

'•Rfb>  llion,"  he  observed,  "  never  obtains  for  us  the  benefit 
we  seek,  and  God  condemns  it.  What  is  rebellion  ?  is  it  not 
to  revenge  oneself?  The  devil  tries  hard  to  stir  up  to  rebellion 
such  as  embrace  the  Gospel,  that  it  may  be  covered  with  re- 


THE  REFORMATION  AND  REVOLT.         195 

proach ;  but  they  who  have  rightly  received  the  truths  I  have 
preached,  will  not  be  found  in  rebellion."* 

The  aspect  of  things  gave  cause  to  fear  that  the  popular  fer- 
ment could  not  be  much  longer  restrained.  The  government 
which  Frederic  of  Saxony  had  taken  pains  to  form,  and  which 
possessed  the  nation's  confidence,  was  broken  up.  The  Em- 
peror, whose  energy  would  perhaps  have  supplied  the  place 
of  the  influence  of  the  national  administration,  was  absent;  the 
princes,  whose  union  had  always  constituted  the  strength  of 
Germany,  were  at  variance;  and  the  new  manifestoes  of  Charles 
the  Fifth  against  Luther,  by  excluding  all  hope  of  a  future  recon- 
ciliation, deprived  the  Reformer  of  much  of  the  moral  influence, 
by  which,  in  1522,  he  had  succeeded  in  calming  the  tempest. 
The  barrier,  which  had  hitherto  withstood  the  torrent,  being 
swept  away,  its  fury  could  no  longer  be  restrained. 

The  religious  movement  did  not  give  birth  to  the  political 
agitation  ;  but  in  some  quarters  it  was  drawn  into,  and  went 
along  with  its  swelling  tide.  We  might  perhaps,- go  farther, 
and  acknowledge  that  the  movement  which  the  Reformation 
communicated  to  the  popular  mind,  added  strength  to  the  dis- 
content which  was  everywhere  fermenting.  The  vehemence 
of  Luther's  writings,  his  bold  words  and  actions,  and  the  stern 
truth  he  spake,  not  only  to  the  Pope  and  the  prelates,  but  even 
to  the  nobles,  must  needs  have  contributed  to  inflame  minds 
that  were  already  in  a  state  of  considerable  excitement.  Thus 
Erasmus  failed  not  to  remind  him, — "  We  are  now  gathering 
the  fruits  of  your  teaching."!  Moreover  the  animating  truths 
of  the  Gospel,  now  fully  brought  to  light,  stirred  all  bosoms, 
and  filled  them  with  hopeful  anticipations.  But  there  were 
many  unrenewed  hearts  which  vverenot  prepared  by  a  change 
of  thought  for  the  faith  and  liberty  of  a  Christian.  They 
were  quite  willing  to  cast  offthe  yoke  of  Rome,  but  they  had  no 
desire  to  take  upon  them  the  yoke  of  Christ.  Thus,  when  the 
Princes   who  espoused  the  cause  of  Rome  endeavoured,  in 

♦  Luther's  treue  Ermahnung  an  alle  Christen  sich  vor  Aufruhr  und 
Emporung  zu  hiiten.     (0pp.  xviii.  p.  288.) 
t  Habftinus  fructum  tui  spiritus.     (Erasm.  Hyperasp,  B.  4.) 


196  FANATICISM. 

their  anger,  to  crush  the  Reformation,  those  who  were  really 
Christians  were  enabled  patiently  to  endure  those  cruel  perse- 
cutions,— while  the  majority  were  roused  to  resistance,  and 
broke  forth  in  tumults  ;  and,  finding  their  desires  opposed  in 
one  direction,  they  sought  vent  for  them  in  another.  "  Why 
is  it,"  said  they,  "  when  the  Church  invites  all  men  to  a 
glorious  liberty,  that  servitude  is  perpetuated  in  the  state? 
When  the  Gospel  inculcates  nothing  but  gentleness,  why 
should  Governments  rule  only  by  force?"  Unhappily,  at  the 
very  period  when  a  reformation  of  religion  was  hailed  with 
joy,  alike  by  nobles  and  people,  a  political  reformation,  on  the 
contrary,  encountered  the  opposition  of  the  most  powerful  of 
the  nation.  And  whilst  the  former  had  the  Gospel  for  its  rule 
and  basis,  the  latter  had  ere  long  no  principles  or  motives  but 
violence  and  insubjection.  Hence, — while  the  one  was  kept 
within  the  bounds  of  truth,  the  other  rapidly  overpassed  all 
bounds — like  an  impetuous  torrent  bursting  its  banks.  But 
to  deny  that  the  Reformation  exerted  an  indirect  influence  on 
the  commotions  which  then  disturbed  the  Empire,  would  sub- 
ject the  historian  to  the  charge  of  partiality.  A  fire  had  been 
lighted  up  in  Germany  by  religious  discussions,  from  which 
it  was  scarcely  possible  but  that  some  sparks  should  escape 
which  were  likely  to  inflame  the  popular  minds. 

The  pretensions  of  a  handful  of  fanatics  to  Divine  inspira- 
tion added  to  the  danger.  Whilst  the  Reformation  constantly 
appealed  from  the  authority  claimed  by  the  Church  to  the 
real  authority  of  the  Sacred  Word,  those  enthusiasts  rejected, 
not  only  the  authority  of  the  Church,  but  that  of  Scripture 
also;  they  began  to  speak  only  of  an  inward  Word — an  in- 
ternal revelation  from  God  ;  and,  unmindful  of  the  natural 
corruption  of  their  hearts,  they  abandoned  themselves  to  the 
intoxication  of  spiritual  pride,  and  imagined  themselves  to  be 
saints. 

"  The  Sacred  Writings,"  said  Luther,  "  were  treated  by 
them  as  a  dead  letter,  and  their  cry  was,  '  the  Spirit !  the 
Spirit!'  But  assuredly,  I,  for  one,  will  not  follow  whither 
their  spirit  is  leading  them  !       May  God,  in  His  mercy,  pre- 


"  THE    SPIRIT."  197 

serve  me  from  a  Church  in  which  there  are  only  such  saints.* 
I  wish  to  be  in  fellowship  with  the  humble,  the  weak,  the 
sick,  who  know  and  feel  their  sin,  and  sigh  and  cry  continually 
to  God  from  the  bottom  of  their  hearts  to  obtain  comfort  and 
deliverance."  These  words  of  Luther  have  a  depth  of  mean- 
ing, and  indicate  ihe  change  which  his  views  were  undergoing 
as  to  the  nature  of  the  Church.  They,  at  the  same  time,  show 
how  opposed  the  religious  principles  of  the  rebels  were  to  the 
religious  principles  of  the  Reformation. 

The  most  noted  of  these  enthusiasts  was  Thomas  Miinzer  ; 
he  was  not  without  talent ;  had  read  his  Bible,  was  of  a  zeal- 
ous temperament,  and  might  have  done  good,  if  he  had  been 
able  to  gather  up  his  agitated  thoughts,  and  attain  to  settled 
peace  of  conscience.  But  with  little  knowledge  of  his  own 
heart,  and  wanting  in  true  humility,  he  was  taken  up  with 
the  desire  of  reforming  the  world,  and,  like  the  generality  of 
enthusiasts,  forgot  that  it  was  with  himself,  he  should  begin. 
Certain  mystical  writings,  which  he  had  read  in  his  youth, 
had  given  a  false  direction  to  his  thoughts.  He  made  his  first 
appearance  in  public  at  Zwickau  ; — quitted  Wittemberg  on 
Luther's  return  thither, — not  satisfied  to  hold  a  secondary 
place  in  the  general  esteem,  and  became  pastor  of  the  small 
town  of  Alstadt,  in  Thuringia.  Here  he  could  not  long  re- 
main quiet,  but  publicly  charged  the  Reformers  with  establish- 
ing by  their  adherence  to  the  written  Word,  a  species  of  Po- 
pery, and  with  forming  churches  which  v^'ere  not  pure  and  holy. 

"  Luther,"  said  he,  "  has  liberated  men's  consciences  from 
the  Papal  yoke ;  but  he  has  left  them  in  a  carnal  liberty,  and 
has  not  led  them  forward  in  spirit  towards  God."t 

He  considered  himself  as  called  of  God  to  remedy  this  great 
evil.  The  revelations  of  the  Spirit,  according  to  him,  were 
the  means  by  which  the  Reformation  he  was  charged  with 
should  be  effected.  "  He  who  hath  the  Spirit,"  said  he,  "  hath 
true  faith,  although  he  should  never  once  in  all  his  life  see  the 

*  Der  barmherzige  Gott  behiite  mich  ja  fiir  der  christlichen  Kirche, 
daren  eitel  heilige  sind.     (Upon  John  i.  2.  L.  0pp.  (W.)  vii.  p.  1469.) 
t  Fuhrete  sie  nicht  welter  in  Geist  und  zu  Gott.    (L.  0pp.  xix.  294.) 

17* 


198  MUNZER  PREACHES  REVOLT. 

Holy  Scriptures.  The  heathen  and  the  Turks  are  better  pre- 
pared to  receive  the  Spirit  than  many  of  those  Christians  who 
call  us  enthusiasts."  This  remark  was  directed  against  Luther. 
"  In  order  to  receive  the  Spirit,"  continued  he,  "  we  must  mor- 
tify the  flesh — wear  sackcloth — neglect  the  body — be  of  a  sad 
countenance — keep  silence* — forsake  the  haunts  of  men — and 
implore  God  to  vouchsafe  to  us  an  assurance  of  His  favour. 
Then  it  is  that  God  will  come  unto  us,  and  talk  with  us.  as  he 
did  of  old  with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  If  He  were  not 
to  do  so,  he  would  not  deserve  our  regaid.f  I  have  received 
from  God  the  commission  to  gather  together  His  elect  in  a 
holy  and  eternal  union." 

The  agitation  and  ferment  which  were  working  in  men's 
minds  were  not  a  little  favourable  to  the  spread  of  these  en- 
thusiastic ideas.  Men  love  the  marvellous  and  whatever  flat- 
ters their  pride.  Miinzer  having  inoculated  with  his  own 
views,  a  portion  of  his  flock,  abolished  the  practice  of  chaunt- 
ing,  and  all  the  other  ceremonies  annexed  to  public  worship. 
He  maintained  that  to  obey  princes  "devoid  of  understanding," 
was  to  serve,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  God  and  Belial ;  and 
then  setting  ofl^  at  the  head  of  his  parishioners  to  a  chapel  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Alstadt,  to  which  pilgrims  were  accus- 
tomed to  resort  from  all  quarters,  he  totally  demolished  it. 
After  this  exploit,  being  obliged  to  leave  the  country,  he  wan- 
dered from  place  to  place  in  Germany,  and  came  as  far  as 
Switzerland,  everyw-here  carrying  with  him,  and  communi- 
cating to  all  who  gave  ear  to  him,  the  project  of  a  general  re- 
x/'olution.  Wherever  he  went  he  found  men's  minds  prepared. 
His  words  were  like  gunpowder  cast  upon  burning  coals,  and 
a  violent  explosion  quickly  ensued. 

Luther,  who  had  rejected  the  warlike  enterprises  of  Sickin- 
gen,J  could  not  be  led  away  by  the  tumultuous  movements  of 

*  Saur  sehen,  den  Bart  nicht  abschneiJen.     (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  294.) 
t  The  expression   used  by  Miinzer  is  low  and  irreverent:    Er  wollt 

in  Gott  scheissen  wenn   er  nicht   mit  ihin   redet,  wie  mit  Abraham. 

(Hist,  of  Miinzer,  by  Melancthon.— Ibid.  p.  295.) 
I  Vol.  I.  book  i.  p.  113. 


LIBERTY    OF    CONSCIENCE.  199 

the  peasantry.  Happily  for  social  order,  the  Gospel  kept  him 
from  falling  into  this  error;  for  what  would  have  been  the 
consequences,  had  he  cast  his  extensive  influence  into  the 
scale  ?  .  .  .  He  resolutely  maintained  the  distinction  between 
spiritual  and  secular  matters  ;  constantly  afHrming,  that  it  was 
to  immortal  souls  that  Christ  gave  liberty  by  His  word  ;  and 
while  on  the  one  hand  he  impugned  the  authority  of  the 
Church,  he  on  the  other,  with  equal  courage,  stood  up  for  the 
power  of  rulers.  "  A  Christian,"  said  he,  "ought  to  suffer  a 
hundred  deaths,  rather  than  be  mixed  up  in  the  least  degree 
with  the  revolted  peasantry."  He  wrote  to  the  Elector — "  It 
gives  me  indescribable  satisfaction  that  these  enthusiasts  them- 
selvf  s  boast,  to  all  who  will  give  ear  to  them,  that  they  do  not 
belong  to  us.  '  It  is,'  say  they,  '  the  Spirit  which  impels  us ;'  to 
which  I  reply,  'that  it  must  be  an  evil  spirit,  that  bears  no 
other  fruits  than  the  pillage  of  convents  and  churches  ;'  the 
greatest  robbers  on  this  earth  might  easily  do  as  much  as 
that." 

At  the  same  time,  Luther,  who  desired  for  others  the  liberty 
that  he  claimed  for  himself,  was  dissuading  the  Prince  from 
resorting  to  severe  measures.  "  Let  them  preach  what  they 
will,  and  against  whom  they  please,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  the 
Word  of  God  alone  which  must  go  forth  and  give  them  battle. 
If  the  spirit  in  them  be  the  true  Spirit,  any  severities  of  ours 
wnll  be  unavailing;  but  if  our  Spirit  be  the  true,  He  will  not 
fear  their  violence  !  Let  us  leave  the  Spirits  to  struggle  and 
contend.*  A  few,  perhaps,  may  be  seduced.  In  every  battle 
there  are  some  wounded ;  but  he  who  is  faithful  in  the  fight 
shall  receive  the  crown.  Nevertheless,  if  they  have  recourse 
to  the  sword,  let  your  Highness  prohibit  it,  and  command  them 
to  quit  your  dominions." 

The  insurrection  commenced  in  the  districts  of  the  Black 
Forest,  near  the  sources  of  the  Danube,  a  country  that  had 
been  often  the  theatre  of  popular  commotions.  On  the  I9th 
July,  1524,  the  Thurgovian  peasantry  rose  against  the  Abbot 

*  Man  lasse  die  Geister  auf  einander  platzen  und  trefTen.  (L.  Epp. 
ii.  p.  547.) 


200 

of  Rj^ichenau,  who  had  refused  to  appoint  over  them  an  evan- 
gelical preucher.  Shortly  after  this,  several  tnousands  of 
them  collected  round  the  small  town  of  Tenger, — their  object 
being  to  liberate  an  ecclesiastic  who  was  there  imprisoned. 
The  insurrection  spread,  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  from 
Suabia  as  far  as  the  Rhenish  provinces,  Franconia,  Thuringia, 
and  Saxony.  In  January,  1525,  all  these  countries  were  in 
a  state  of  open  insurrection. 

Tov/ards  the  close  of  that  month,  the  peasantry  put  forth  a 
declaration  in  twelve  articles,  wherein  they  claimed  the  liberty 
of  choosing  their  own  pastors,  the  abolition  of  small  tithes,  ser- 
vitude, and  the  taxes  on  inheritance;  the  right  to  hunt,  fish, 
cut  wood,  &c.  Each  demand  was  backed  by  a  passage  from 
the  Bible:  and  they  concluded  with  the  words, — "  If  we  are 
wrong,  let  Luther  set  us  right  by  the  Scriptures." 

They  requested  to  have  the  opinion  of  the  divines  of  Wit- 
temberg.  Melancthon  and  Luther  each  gave  his  judgment 
separately;  and  the  decision  of  each  reminds  us  of  the  differ- 
ence that  marked  their  characters.  Melancthon,  who  re- 
garded any  disturbance  as  a  serious  crime,  overstepped  the 
limits  of  his  habitual  mildness,  and  seemed  to  labour  to  ex- 
press the  strength  of  his  indignation.  According  to  him,  the 
peasantry  were  public  criminals,  on  whom  he  invoked  all 
laws, — divine  and  human.  If  amicable  communications  should 
fail  of  effect,  he  would  have  the  magistrates  to  pursue  them,  as 
they  would  robbers  and  assassins.  "  Nevertheless,"  adds  he, 
— (and  some  one  feature,  at  least,  we  need  to  find,  that  shall 
remind  us  of  Melancthon,) — ''  think  of  the  orphans  before  you 
have  recourse  to  capital  punishment!" 

Luther  took  the  same  view  of  the  revolt  as  Melancthon ; 
but  he  had  a  heart  which  deeply  felt  for  the  miseries  of  the 
people.  He  manifested,  on  this  occasion,  a  noble  impartiality, 
and  frankly  spoke  truth  to  both  parties.  He  first  addressed 
the  princes, — and  more  particularly  the  bishops  : — 

"  It  is  you,"  said  he,  "  who  have  caused  the  revolt ;  it  is 
your  declamations  against  the  Gospel,  it  is  your  guilty  op- 
pression of  the  poor  of  the  flock^ — which  have  driven  the 


LTTTHER    TO    THE    PEASANTRY.  201 

people  to  despair.  My  dear  Lords,  it  is  not  the  peasants  who 
have  risen  against  you, — it  is  God  Himself  who  is  opposing 
your  madness.*  The  peasants  are  but  instruments  He  is  em- 
ploying to  humble  you.  Think  not  you  can  escape  the  pun- 
ishment reserved  for  you.  Even  though  you  should  succeed 
in  exterminating  all  the  peasantry,  God  could  from  these  stones 
raise  up  others  to  chastise  your  pride.  If  I  were  bent  on 
avengmg  my  own  wrongs,  I  might  laugh  in  my  sleeve, — and 
quietly  look  on,  while  the  peasantry  were  acting, — or  even  in- 
flame their  rage, — but  the  Lord  keep  me  from  it !  My  dear 
Lords,  for  the  love  of  God  !  calm  your  irritation  ; — grant 
reasonable  conditions  to  these  poor  people,  as  phrenzied  and 
misled  persons  ; — appease  these  commotions  by  gentle  me- 
thods, lest  they  give  birth  to  a  conflagration  which  shall  set  all 
Germany  in  a  flame.  Some  of  their  twelve  articles  contain 
just  and  reasonable  demands." 

Such  an  exordium  was  calculated  to  gain  for  Luther  the 
confidence  of  the  peasantry,  and  to  induce  them  to  listen  to  the 
truths  which  he  was  about  to  press  upon  them.  After  admit- 
ting that  some  of  their  demands  were  founded  in  justice,  he 
declared  that  rebellion  was  the  act  of  heathens :  that  Chris- 
tians were  called  to  suflfer,  not  to  fight :  that  if  they  persisted 
in  their  revolt  in  the  name  of  the  Gospel,  but  contrary  to  the 
very  precepts  of  the  Gospel,  he  should  consider  them  as  worse 
enemies  than  the  Pope.  "  The  Pope  and  the  Emperor,"  con- 
tinued he,  "  combined  against  me;  but  the  more  the  Emperor 
and  the  Pope  stormed,  the  more  did  the  Gospel  make  its  way. 
Why  was  this?  Because  I  neither  took  up  the  sword,  nor 
called  for  vengeance,  nor  had  recourse  to  tumult  or  revolt  • 
I  committed  all  to  God, — and  waited  for  Him  to  interpose  by 
His  mighty  power.  The  Christian  conflict  is  not  to  be  car- 
ried on  by  sword  or  arquebuss,  but  by  endurance  and  the 
cross.  Christ,  their  Captain,  would  not  have  his  servants 
smite  with  the  sword, — he  was  hanged  upon  a  tree." 

But  in  vain  did   Luther  inculcate  these  Christian  precepts. 

The  people,  under  the   influence  of  the  inflammatory  haran- 

♦  Gott  ist's  sclber  der  setzt  sich  wider  euch.   (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  254.) 


202  MURDER    OF    COUNT    HELFENSTEIN. 

gues  of  the  leaders  of  the  revolt,  were  deaf  to  the  words  of 
the  Reformer.  "  He  is  playing  the  hypocrite,"  said  they, 
''and  flatters  the  nobles  : — he  has  himself  made  war  against 
the  Pope,  and  yet  expects  that  we  should  submit  to  our  op- 
pressors.' 

Instead  of  subsiding,  the  insurrection  grew  more  formidable. 
At  Wsinsberg,  Count  Louis  of  Helfenstein,  and  the  seventy 
men  under  his  command,  were  doomed  to  death.  A  body  of 
peasantry  drew  up  in  close  ranks,  with  advanced  pikes,  whilst 
others  drove  the  Count  and  his  retainers  against  the  points  of 
this  forest  of  weapons.*  The  wife  of  the  ill-fated  Helfenstein, 
a  natural  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  holding  her 
infant  in  her  arms,  implored  them,  on  bended  knees,  to  spare 
the  life  of  her  husband,  and  vainly  endeavoured  to  avert  this 
barbarous  murder.  A  lad  who  had  served  under  the  Count, 
and  had  afterwards  joined  the  rebels,  gamboled  in  mockery 
before  him,  and  played  the  dead  march  upon  his  fife,  as  if  he 
had  been  leading  his  victims  in  a  dance.  All  perished;  the 
infont  was  wounded  in  its  mother's  arms,  and  she  herself 
thrown  upon  a  d  mg-cart,  and  thus  conveyed  to  Heilbronn. 

At  the  news  of  these  atrocities,  a  cry  of  horror  was  uttered 
by  the  friends  of  the  Reformation,  and  Luther's  feeling  heart 
was  \iolently  agitated.  On  one  hand,  the  peasantry,  ridicul- 
ing his  counsel,  asserted  that  thty  had  a  revelation  from  Hea- 
ven,— impiously  perverted  the  threatenings  contained  in  the 
Old  Testament, — proclaimed  an  equality  of  conditions,  and  a 
community  of  goods, — defended  their  cause  with  fire  and 
sword,  and  rioted  in  barbarous  executions.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  with  malicious  sneer, 
enquired  if  the  Reformer  did  not  know  that  it  was  easier  to 
kiiidle  a  fire  than  to  extinguish  it.  Indignant  at  these  exces- 
ses, and  alarmed  at  the  thought  that  they  might  check  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Gospel.  Luther  no  longer  hesitated ;  he  laid  aside 
his  former  forbearance,  and  denounced  the  rebels  with  all  the 
energy  of  his  character,  overpassing,  perhaps,  the  just  bounds 
within  which  he  should  have  contained  himself 

♦  Und  jechten  ein  Grassen  durch  die  Spiesse.     (Mathesius,  p.  46.) 


WARLIKE    EXHORTATION.  203 

"The  peasantry,"  said  he,  "are  guilty  of  three  horrible 
crimes  against  God  and  men  ;  and  thus  deserve  both  the  death 
of  the  body  and  that  of  the  soul.  In  the  first  place,  they  re- 
bel against  their  rulers,  to  whom  they  have  sworn  allegiance; 
next,  they  rob  and  plunder  convents  and  castles ;  and,  to  crown 
all,  they  cloak  their  crimes  under  the  profession  of  the  Gos- 
pel !  If  you  neglect  to  shoot  a  mad  dog,  yourself  and  all 
j'^our  neighbours  will  perish.  He  who  dies  in  the  cause  of  the 
magistrates  will  be  a  true  martyr,  provided  he  fight  with  a 
good  conscience." 

Luther  then  proceeds  to  comment  severely  upon  the  guilty 
violence  of  the  peasantry,  in  compelling  simple  and  peaceable 
men  to  join  their  ranks,  and  thus  bringing  them  into  the  same 
condemnation.  He  then  proceeds:  "On  this  account,  my 
dear  Lords,  I  conjure  you  to  interpose  for  the  deliverance  of 
these  poor  people.  I  say  to  him  who  can  bear  arms,  strike, 
and  kill.  If  thou  shouldst  fall,  thou  canst  not  have  a  more 
blessed  end  ;  for  thou  meetest  death  in  the  service  of  God,  and 
to  save  thy  neighbour  from  hell."* 

Neither  gentle  nor  violent  measures  could  arrest  the  popu- 
lar torrent.  The  church  bells  were  rung  no  longer  for  divine 
woiship.  Whenever  their  deep  and  prolonged  sounds  were 
heaid  in  country  places,  it  was  known  as  the  tocsin,  and  all 
flew  to  arms. 

The  people  of  the  Black  Forest  had  enrolled  themselves 
under  John  Muller  of  Bulgenbach.  With  an  imposing  aspect, 
wrapped  in  a  red  cloak,  and  wearing  a  red  cap,  this  chief  dar- 
ingly proceeded  from  village  to  village,  followed  by  his  pea- 
santry. Behind  him,  on  a  waggon,  decorated  with  boughs 
and  ribands,  was  exhibited  a  tri-coloured  flag,  black,  red,  ar.d 
white, — the  standard  of  revok.  A  herald,  similarly  deco- 
rated, read  aloud  the  twelve  articles,  and  invited  the  people  ^o 
join  in  the  insurrection.  Whoever  refused  to  do  so,  was  ban- 
ished from  the  community. 

Their  progress,  which  at  first  was  pacific,  became  more  and 
more  alarming.     "We   must,"  they  exclaimed,  "compel  the 

*  Deinen  Nehesten  zu  rclten  aus  der  Holle.     (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  2GG.) 


204  GOTZ    OP    BERLICHINGES. 

lords  of  the  soil  to  submit  to  our  conditions" — and  by  way  of 
bringing  them  to  compliance  they  proceeded  to  break  open  the 
granaries,  empty  the  cellars,  draw  the  fish-ponds,  demolish 
the  castles  of  the  nobles,  and  set  fire  to  the  convents.  Oppo- 
sition had  inflamed  to  frenzy  these  misguided  men:  Equality 
could  no  longer  satisfy  them; — they  thirsted  for  blood;  and 
swore  to  make  every  man  who  wore  a  spur  bite  the  dust. 

At  the  approach  of  the  peasantry,  those  towns  which  were 
incapable  of  withstanding  a  siege  opened  their  gates,  and 
made  common  cause  with  them.  In  every  place  they  entered, 
the  images  of  the  saints  were  defaced — the  crucifixes  broken 
to  pieces, — while  women,  armed  with  weapons,  passed  through 
the  streets  threatening  the  lives  of  the  monks.  Beaten  and 
repulsed  in  one  place,  they  re-assembled  in  another,  and  braved 
the  most  formidable  regular  troops. 

A  committee  chosen  by  the  peasants  stationed  themselves  at 
Heilbrun.  The  Counts  of  Lowenstein  were  captured,  stript, 
and  clothed  in  common  blouse,  a  white  staff  was  placed  in 
their  hands,  and  they  were  compelled  to  swear  adhesion  to  the 
tv^^elve  articles.  "  Brother  George,  and  you,  brother  Albert," 
said  a  brazier  to  the  Counts  of  Hohenlohe,  who  visited  their 
camp,  "swear  to  us  to  act  the  part  of  brothers — for  yourselves 
are  now  peasants  and  no  longer  lords."  Equality  of  ranks,  that 
dream  of  democrats,  was  established  in  aristocratic  Germany. 

Many  persons  of  the  upper  classes,  some  from  fear,  and  some 
from  motives  of  ambition,  joined  the  insurrection.  The  cele- 
brated Gotz  of  Berlichingen  finding  himself  unable  to  main- 
tain his  authority  over  his  vassals,  prepared  to  seek  a  refuge 
in  the  states  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  but  his  wife,  who  was 
then  in  child-bed,  wishing  to  keep  him  at  home,  concealed 
from  him  the  Elector's  letter.  Gotz,  hemmed  in  on  all  sides, 
was  compelled  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rebel  forces. 
On  the  7th  of  May,  the  peasants  entered  Wurizburg,  where 
they  were  received  with  acclamations.  The  troops  of  the 
princes  and  of  the  knights  of  Suabia  and  Franconia,  who 
were  stationed  in  that  city,  evacuated  it,  and  withdrew  in  con- 
fusion within  the  citadel, — the  last  refuge  of  the  nobility. 


"  RADICAL    REFORM."  205 

But  already  had  the  commotion  spread  to  other  parts  of 
Germany.  Spires,  the  Palatinate,  Alsace,  Hesse,  had  adopted, 
the  twelve  articles,  and  the  peasants  threatened  Bavaiia,  West- 
phalia, the  Tyrol,  Saxony,  and  Lorraine.  The  Marjrrave  of 
Baden,  having  scornfully  rejected  the  articles,  was  compelled 
to  seek  refuge  in  flight.  The  Coadjutor  of  Fulda  acceded  to 
them  with  a  laugh.  The  smaller  towns  submitted,  alleging 
that  they  had  no  spears  to  resist  the  insurgents.  Mentz, 
Treves,  Frankfort,  obtained  the  immunities  on  which  they  had 
insisted. 

Throughout  the  Empire,  a  wide-spreading  revolution  was 
in  fi]ll  career.  The  ecclesiastical  and  secular  privileges, 
which  bore  so  heavily  on  the  peasantry,  were  to  be  suppressed  ; 
church  property  was  to  be  diverted  to  secular  uses,  to  indem- 
nify the  chiefs,  and  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  state ;  taxes 
were  to  be  abolished,  with  exception  of  a  tribute  payable  every 
ten  years  ;  the  power  of  the  Emperor,  as  recognised  by  the 
New  Testament,  was  to  be  maintained  supreme;  all  other 
reigning  princes  were  to  come  down  to  the  level  of  citizens ; 
sixty-four  free  courts  were  to  be  instituted,  and  men  of  all  ranks 
to  be  eligible  as  judges;  all  conditions  were  to  return  to  their 
primitive  positions  ;  the  clergy  were  to  be  restricted  to  the  pas- 
torship of  their  several  churches;  princes  and  knights  were 
to  be  def^nd^rs  of  the  weak;  uniform  weights  and  measures 
were  to  be  introduced  ;  and  one  coin  to  be  struck,  and  be  the 
only  currency  of  the  whole  Empire. 

Meanwhile,  thf^  nobles  were  recovering  from  their  first  stu- 
por, and  George  Truchsess,  commander-in-chief  of  the  Impe- 
rial forces,  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the  lake  of  Constance. 
On  the  7th  of  May,  he  drove  back  the  peasants  at  Beblingen, 
and  directed  his  march  upon  the  town  of  Weinsberg,  where 
the  unfortimate  Count  of  Helfenstein  had  lost  his  life.  He 
set  fire  to  it,  and  burned  it  to  the  ground,  giving  orders  that 
its  ruins  should  be  left  as  a  lasting  memorial  of  the  treason  of 
its  inhabitants.  At  Furfeld,  he  effected  a  junction  with  the 
Elector  Palatine  and  the  Elector  of  Treves,  and  the  combined 
army  advanced  upon  Franconia. 

VOL.    III.  18 


206  DEFEAT  OF  THE  REBELS. 

The  Frauenberg,  the  citadel  of  Wurtzburg,  had  held  out 
for  the  cause  of  the  nobles^  and  the  main  army  of  the  peasants 
still  lay  before  its  walls.  On  receiving  intelligence  of  the 
approach  of  Truchsess,  they  resolved  on  an  assault,  and  on  the 
15th  of  May,  at  nine  in  the  evening,  the  trumpets  sounded,  the 
tri-colour  flag  was  unfurled,  and  the  peasants  rushed  to  the  as- 
sault with  frightful  shouts.  Sebastian  Rotenhan,  one  of  the 
staunchest  partisans  of  the  Reformation,  was  commandant  in 
the  castle.  He  had  organized  the  means  of  defence  on  an 
efficient  footing,  and  when  he  harangued  the  soldiers  and  ex- 
horted them  to  repel  the  attack,  they  had  all  sworn  to  do  so, 
raising  their  three  fingers  towards  heaven.  A  fierce  struggle 
ensued.  The  reckless  and  despairing  efforts  of  the  peasants 
were  answered  from  the  walls  of  the  fortress  by  petards  and 
showers  of  sulphur  and  boiling  pitch,  and  discharges  of  can- 
non. The  peasants,  thus  struck  by  their  unseen  enemy  from 
behind  the  ramparts,  for  an  instant  faltered,  but  their  fury  rose 
above  it  all.  Night  closed  in,  and  the  contest  still  raged. 
The  fortress,  lighted  up  by  a  thousand  battle-fires,  seemed,  in 
the  darkness  of  the  night,  to  resemble  a  towering  giant  pour- 
ing forth  flames,  and  contending  in  the  midst  of  bursts  of  thun- 
der for  the  salvation  of  the  Empire  from  the  savage  bravery 
of  infuriated  hordes.  At  two  in  the  morning,  the  peasants, 
failing  in  all  their  efforts,  at  last  retreated. 

They  tried  to  open  negociations  with  the  garrison,  on  the 
one  side,  and  with  Truchsess,  who  was  approaching  at  the 
head  of  his  army,  on  the  other.  But  negociation  was  not 
their  forte.  Violence  and  conquest  offered  their  only  chcince 
of  safety.  After  some  hesitation,  they  decided  to  adv;mce 
against  the  Imperial  forces;  but  the  cannon  and  charges  of 
the  Imperial  cavalry  made  fearful  havoc  in  their  ranks. 
On  reaching  Konigshofen,  they  were  completely  routed.  Thtn 
it  was  that  the  princes,  nobles,  and  bishops,  cruelly  abusing 
their  victory,  gave  loose  to  unheard-of  cruelties.  Those  who 
were  taken  prisoners,  were  hanged  at  the  road-side.  The 
bishop  of  Wurtzburg,  who  had  taken  flight,  returning  to  his 
diocese,  passed  over  it,  attended  by  executioners,  who  shed, 


MUNZER    AT    MULHAUSEN*  207 

without  distinction,  the  blood  of  rebels,  and  of  such  as  were 
living-  quietly  in  subjection  to  God's  word.  Gotz  de  Berlich- 
ingen  was  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  life.  The  Margrave 
Casimir  of  Anspach,  deprived  of  their  sight  no  less  than 
eighty  peasants,  who,  in  the  rebellion,  had  declared,  with  an 
oath,  that  their  eyes  should  never  look  upon  that  prince, — 
casting  the  victims  of  his  cruelty  on  the  wide  world,  blind, 
and  holding  each  other  by  the  hand,  to  grope  their  way,  and 
beg  their  bread.  The  unfortunate  youth  who  had  played,  on 
his  fife,  the  death-march  of  Helfenstein,  was  chained  to  a  stake, 
and  a  fire  lighted  round  him, — the  knights  being  present,  and 
laughing  at  his  horrid  contortions. 

Everywhere  public  worship  was  restored,  under  its  ancient 
forms.  In  the  most  flourishing  and  populous  districts  of  the 
Empire,  the  traveller  was  horror-struck  with  the  sight  of 
heaps  of  dead  bodies  and  smoking  ruins.  Fifty  thousand  had 
perished;  and  almost  everywhere  the  people  lost  what  little 
liberty  they  had  previously  possessed.  Such,  in  Southern 
Germany,  was  the  dreadful  result  of  the  Revolt. 

But  the  evil  was  not  confined  to  the  south  and  west  of  Ger- 
many. Munzer,  after  traversing  part  of  Switzerland,  Alsace, 
and  Suabia,  had  again  turned  his  steps  toward  Saxony.  Some 
townsmen  of  Mulhausen,  in  Thuringia,  invited  him  to  their 
town,  and  elected  him  as  their  pastor.  The  Town-council 
having  offered  resistance,  Munzer  degraded  it, — appointing 
another  in  its  stead,  composed  of  his  own  friends,  and  presided 
over  by  himself  Contemning  the  Christ  full  of  grace,  whom 
Luther  preached,  and  resolved  on  recourse  to  violent  means, 
his  cry  was, — "  We  must  exterminate  with  the  sword,  like 
Joshua,  the  Canaanitish  nations."  He  set  on  foot  a  commu- 
nity of  goods,*  and  pillaged  the  convents.  "  Munzer,"  wrote 
Luther  to  Amsdortf^  on  the  11th  of  April,  1525,  "Munzer  is 
king,  and  emperor  of  Mulhausen,  and  no  longer  its  pastor." 
The  lowest  classes  ceased  to  work.  If  any  one  wanted  a 
piece  of  cloth,  or  a  supply  of  corn,  he  asked  his  richer  neigh 
*  Omnia  simul  communia,     (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  202.) 


208  ANXIETY    AT    WITTEMBERG. 

bour  :  if  the  latter  refused,  the  penalty  was  hanging.  Mulhau- 
sen  being  a  free  town,  Miinzer  exercised  his  power,  unmoh^sted 
for  nearly  a  year.  The  revolt  of  Southern  Germany  led  him 
to  imagine  that  the  time  was  come  to  extend  his  new  kingdom. 
He  cast  some  large  guns  in  the  convent  of  the  Franciscans,  and 
exerted  himself  to  raise  the  peasantry  and  miners  of  Mansfeld. 
"  When  will  you  shake  off  your  slumbers,"  said  he,  in  a  fa- 
natical address:  "  Arise,  and  fight  the  battle  of  the  Lord  !— 
The  time  is  come. — France,  Germany,  and  Italy,  are  up  and 
doing.  Forward.  Forward,  Forward  ! — Dran,  Dran^  Dran! 
Heed  not  the  cries  of  the  ungodly.  They  will  weep  like 
children, — but  be  3^ou  pitiless. — Dran,  Dran,  Dran! — Fire 
burns; — let  your  swords  be  ever  tinged  with  blood!* — Dran, 
Dran,  Dran  ! — Work  while  it  is  day."  The  letter  was  sign- 
ed *'  Miinzer,  God's  servant  against  the  ungodly." 

The  country  people,  eager  for  plunder,  flocked  in  crowds 
lo  his  standard.  Throughout  the  districts  of  Mansfeld,  Stol- 
berg,  Schwarzburg,  Hesse,  and  Brunswick,  the  peasantry  rose 
en  masse.  The  convents  of  Michelstein,  llsenburg,  Walken- 
ried,  Rossleben,  and  many  others  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
Hartz  mountains,  or  in  the  plains  of  Thuringia  were  plundered. 
At  Reinhardsbrunn,  the  place  which  Luther  had  once  visited, 
the  tombs  of  the  ancient  landgraves  were  violated,  and  the 
library  destroyed. 

Terror  spread  far  and  wide.  Even  at  Wittemberg,  some 
anxiety  began  to  be  felt.  The  Doctois  who  had  not  feared 
Emperors  nor  Pope  felt  themselves  tremble  in  presence  of  a 
madman.  Curiosity  was  all  alive  to  the  ac^unts  of  what 
was  going  on,  and  watched  every  step  in  the  progress  of  the 
insurrection.  Melancthon  wrote — "  We  are  here  in  imminent 
danger.  If  Miinzer  be  successful,  it  is  all  over  with  us ;  un- 
less Christ  should  appear  for  our  deliverance.  Miinzer's  pro- 
gress is  marked  by  more  than  Scythian  cruelty.f  His  threats 
are  more  dreadful  than  I  can  tell  you." 

*  lasset  euer  Schwerdt  nicht  kaltwerden  von  Blut.  (L.  0pp.  xix.  289) 
t  Moncerus  plus  quam  Scythicam  crudelitatem  prae  se  fert.     (Corp*. 
Ref.  i.  p.  741.) 


THE    LANDGRAVE    TAKES    UP    ARMS.  209 

The  pious  Elector  had  hesitated  long  what  steps  he  should 
take.  Miinzer  had  exhorted  him,  as  well  as  the  other  reign- 
ing princes,  to  be  converted :  "  For,"  said  he,  "  their  time  is 
come:"  and  he  had  signed  his  letters — "  Munzer,  armed  with 
the  sword  of  Gideon."  It  was  Frederic's  earnest  desire  to  try- 
gentle  methods  for  reclaiming  these  deluded  men.  Danger- 
ously ill,  he  had  written  on  the  1 4th  of  April,  to  his  brother 
John — "  Possibly,  more  than  one  cause  for  insurrection  has 
been  given  to  these  wretched  people.  Oh,  in  many  ways  are 
the  poor  oppressed  by  their  temporal,  as  well  as  by  their 
spiritual  rulers!"  And  when  his  councillors  adverted  to  the 
humiliation,  confusions,  and  dangers  to  which  he  would  ex- 
pose himself  by  neglecting  to  stifle  the  rebellion  in  its  infancy, 
he  made  answer — "In  my  time,  I  have  been  a  potent  Elector, 
with  horses  and  chariots  in  great  abundance, — if,  at  this  time, 
God  will  take  them  away,  I  will  go  on  foot."* 

Phillip,  the  young  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  was  the  first  of  the 
reigning  princes  who  took  up  arms.  His  knights  and  retain- 
ers swore  to  live  or  die  with  him.  Having  put  the  affairs  of 
his  states  in  order,  he  moved  tow^ards  Saxony.  On  their  side, 
Duke  John,  the  Elector's  brother,  Duke  George  of  Saxony, 
and  Duke  Henry  of  Brunswick,  advancing,  effected  a  junction 
with  the  Hessian  troops.  As  the  combined  force  came  into 
sight,  the  peasants,  in  alarm,  took  their  station  on  a  hill,  and, 
without  observing  any  discipline,  set  about  constructing  a  sort 
of  rampart,  composed  of  their  waggons.  Munzer  had  not 
even  provided  powder  for  his  immense  guns.  No  help  ap- 
peared— the  troops  hemmed  them  in,  and  a  panic  spread  through 
the  rebel  host.  The  princes  from  motives  of  humanity,  pro- 
posed to  them  to  capitulate — and  they  showed  signs  of  willing- 
ness to  do  so.  Then  it  was,  that  Munzer  had  recourse  to  the 
most  powerful  lever  of  enthusiasm  :  "  This  day,"  said  he, 
"this  day  we  shall  behold  the  mighty  arm  of  God,  and  de- 
struction shall  fail  upon  our  enemies  !"  Just  at  that  moment, 
a  rainbow  was  seen  in  the  clouds — and  the  fanatic  multitude, 
whose  standard  bore  the  representation  of  a  rainbow,  beheld  in 
*  So  Vi^olle  er  hinkunftig  zu  fuss  gehen,  (Seek.  p.  685.) 
18* 


210  DEFEAT    AND    DEATH    OF    MUNZER. 

it  a  sure  omen  of  the  Divine  protection.  Miinzer  took  advan- 
tage of  it :  '•  Never  ft*ar,"  said  hp,  to  the  burghers  and  peasant- 
ry; "I  will  receive  all  their  balls  in  my  sleeve:"*  and  at  the 
same  moment,  he  gave  direction  that  a  young  gentleman, 
Maternus  Geholfen,  an  envoy  from  the  princes,  should  be 
cruelly  put  to  death,  in  order  that  the  rebels  might  thus 
know  themselves  beyond  the  hope  of  pardon. 

The  Landgrave  harangued  his  soldiers — "  I  well  know," 
said  he,  "  that  we  princes  are  often  to  blame — for  we  are  but 
men;  but  it  is  God's  will  that  the  powers  that  be  should  be 
respected.  Let  us  save  our  wives  and  children  from  the  fury 
of  these  murderers.  The  Lord  will  give  us  the  victory,  for 
hath  He  not  said.  '  He  that  resisteth  the  power,  resisteth  the 
ordinance  of  God.'  "  Philip  then  gave  the  signal  for  the  at- 
tack. It  was  the  15th  of  May,  1525.  The  army  put  itself 
in  motion — but  the  crowd  of  peasan's  standing  still,  struck  up 
the  hj'-mn,  "Come,  Holy  Spirit," — expecting  Heaven  to  inter- 
pose in  their  behalf.  But  the  artillery  soon  opened  a  breach 
in  their  rude  fortification,  and  scattered  confusion  and  death  in 
their  midst.  On  this,  their  fanaticism  and  resolution  at  once 
forsook  them;  a  panic  spread  throughout  their  host,  and 
breaking  from  their  ranks  they  fled  in  the  utmost  disorder. 
Five  thousand  were  slain  in  the  pursuit.  After  the  battle  the 
princes  and  their  victorious  troops  entered  Frankenhausen.  A 
soldier,  who  had  mounted  to  the  loft  of  the  house  in  which  he 
was  quartered,  perceived  a  man  crouching  in  concealment.! 
"Who  are  you?"  demanded  he;  "are  you  one  of  the  re- 
bels?"— then  catching  sight  of  a  writing-case,  he  opened  it, 
and  found  therein  letters  addressed  to  Thomas  Munzer — "Is 
that  your  name?"  inquired  the  trooper. — "No,"  answered  the 
sick  man.  But  the  soldier,  uttering  dreadful  threats,  Munzer 
— for  he  it  was — confessed  he  was  the  man.  "  You  are  my 
prisoner,"  rejoined  the  other.  Being  taken  before  Duke 
George  and  the  Landgrave,  Munzer  persisted  in  maintaining 

*  Ihr  soUt  sehen  dass  ich  alle  Biichsensteine  in  Ermel  fassen  will. 
(L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  297.) 
t  So  finJct  er  einen  am  Bett. 


A  'thirteenth'  article.  211 

hat  he  was  justifiod  in  chastising  the  nobles,  since  they  were 
opposers  of  the  Gospel.  "  Wretch  !"  said  they,  'think  of 
those  whose  death  thou  h;ist  occasioned."  But  he  made  an- 
swer, smiling  in  the  midst  of  his  anguish,  "  They  would  have 
it  so."  He  took  the  sacrament  under  one  kind,  and  was  be- 
headed on  the  same  day  as  his  lieutenant  Pfeifler.  Mulhausen 
was  taken,  and  tht-  peasants  loaded  with  chains. 

One  of  the  nobles,  who  had  remarked  in  the  crowd  of  pris- 
oners a  peasant  whose  appearance  interested  him,  drew  near, 
and  said, — "  Well,  my  boy,  what  government  is  most  to  your 
mind, — the  peasants  or  the  princes?"  The  poor  youth,  sigh- 
ing deeply,  replied, — "  Ah,  my  dear  lord,  no  edge  of  sword 
inflicts  such  suffering  as  the  rule  of  a  peasant  over  his  fel- 
low."* 

What  remained  of  the  rebellion  was  quenched  in  blood: 
Duke  George  was  particularly  inflexible.  In  the  states  of 
the  Elector,  there  were  neither  executions  nor  punishments  ;t 
God's  word,  preached  in  its  purity,  had  been  proved  sufficient 
to  control  the  tumultuous  passions  of  the  people. 

In  truth,  Luther  had,  from  its  very  beginning,  withstood  the 
rebellion  ;  which  to  him  appeared  the  forerunner  of  final 
judgments.  He  had  spared  neither  advice,  entreaties,  nor 
irony.  To  the  twelve  articles  which  the  rebels  had  drawn 
up  at  Erfurth,  he  had  subjoined  as  a  thirteenth:  "  Item^  the 
following  article  omitted  above.  From  this  day  forth  the  hon- 
ourable Council  shall  be  powerless, — its  functions  shall  be  to 
do  nothing, — it  shall  sit  as  an  idol  or  as  a  log, — ^the  commune 
shall  chew  its  meat  for  it,  and  it  shall  govern  bound  hand  and 
foot.  From  this  day,  the  waggon  shall  guide  the  horses,  the 
horses  shall  hold  the  reins,  and  all  shall  go  on  prosperously, 
in  conformity  with  the  glorious  system  set  forth  in  the  fore- 
going articles." 

Luther  was  not  satisfied  with  using  his  pen.  Just  when 
the  confusion  was  at  its  height,  he  left  Wittemberg,  and  trav- 

♦  Kein  Messer  scherpfer  schirrt  denn  wenn   ein  Baur  des   andera 
Herr  wird.     (Mathesius,  p.  48.) 
t  Hie  nulla  carnilicina,  nullum  supplicium.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  752.) 


212  LUTHER    CALUMNIATED. 

ersed  some  of  the  districts  Avhere  the  agitation  was  greatest. 
He  preached,  he  laboured  to  soften  the  hearts  of  his  hearers, 
and  being  strengthened  from  above  in  his  work,  he  guided, 
quieted,  and  brought  back  into  their  accustomed  channels,  the 
impetuous  and  overflowing  torrents. 

The  reformed  teachers  everywhere  exerted  a  similar  influ- 
ence. At  Halle,  Brentz,  by  the  power  of  the  divine  promises, 
revived  the  drooping  spirits  of  its  inhabitants,  and  four  thou- 
sand of  the  peasants  fled  before  six  hundred  of  its  citizens.* 
At  Ichterhausen,  where  a  body  of  peasants  had  met,  intending 
to  demolish  certain  castles,  and  put  their  owners  to  death.  Fre- 
deric Myconius  ventured  alone  among  them,  and  such  was 
the  powder  of  his  eloquence,  that  they  at  once  abandoned  their 
purpose.! 

Such  was  the  part  taken  by  the  Reformers  and  the  Refor- 
mation during  the  continuance  of  the  revolt.  They  contend- 
ed, as  far  as  they  were  enabled,  by  the  sword  of  the  Word, 
and  boldly  asserted  the  principles  which  alone  have  power  at 
all  times  to  preserve  order  and  subjection  among  nations. 
Hence  we  find  Luther  asserting  that  if  the  wholesome  influ- 
ence of  sound  doctrine  had  not  withstood  the  madness  of  the 
people,  the  revolt  would  have  extended  its  ravages  far  more 
widely,  and  would  everywhere  have  overturned  both  Church 
and  State.  Every  thing  inclines  us  to  believe  that  this  melan- 
choly anticipation  would  have  been  realised. 

If,  as  we  have  seen,  the  Reformers  stood  up  against  sedition, 
they  nevertheless  did  not  escape  without  being  wounded. 
That  moral  agony  which  Luther  had  first  undergone  in  his 
cell  at  Erfurth,  was  perhaps  at  its  height  after  the  revolt  of 
the  peasants.  On  the  side  of  the  princes  it  was  repeated,  and 
in  many  quarters  believed,  that  Luther's  teaching  had  been 
the  cause  of  the  rebellion ;  and  groundless  as  was  the  charge, 
the  Reformer  could  not  but  feel  deeply  affected  by  the  credit 

*  Eorum  animos  fractos  et  perturbatos  verbo  Dei  erexit,  (M.  Adam. 
Vit.  Brentii,  p.  441.) 

t  Agmen  rusticorum  qui  convenerant  ad  demoliendas  arces,  unica 
oratione  sic  compescuit.     (M.  Adam.  Vit.  Fred.  Myconii,  p.  178.) 


RISE    OF    THE    NEW    CHURCH.  213 

attached  to  it.  On  the  side  of  the  people,  Munzer  and  all  the 
leaders  of  the  sedition  represented  him  as  a  vile  hypocrite  and 
flatterer  of  the  great,*  and  their  calumnies  easily  obtained  be- 
lief The  strength  with  which  Luther  had  declared  against 
the  rebels,  had  given  offence  even  to  men  of  moderate  opinions. 
The  partisans  of  Rome  exulted;!  all  seemed  against  him,  and 
he  bore  the  indignation  of  that  generation  :  but  what  most 
grieved  him  was  that  the  work  of  heaven  should  be  thus  de- 
graded by  being  classed  with  the  dreams  of  fanatics.  He 
contemplated  the  bitter  cup  presented  to  him.  and  foreseeing 
that  ere  long  he  would  be  forsaken  by  all,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Soon  shall  I  also  have  to  say,  '  All  ye  shall  be  offended  be- 
cause of  me  in  that  night !'  " 

Yet.  in  the  midst  of  this  bitter  experience,  his  faith  was 
unshaken.  "  He,"  said  he,  "  who  has  enabled  me  to  tread 
the  enemy  under  foot  when  he  came  against  me  as  a  roaring 
lion,  will  not  suffer  that  enemy  to  crush  me,  now  that  he  ap- 
proaches with  the  treacherous  leer  of  the  basilisk. {  I  mourn 
over  the  late  calamities.  Again  and  again  have  I  asked  my- 
self whether  it  might  not  have  been  better  to  have  allowed  the 
Papacy  to  pursue  its  course  unmolested,  rather  than  be  a  wit- 
ness to  the  breaking  out  of  such  commotions.  But  no  ; — it  is 
better  to  have  extricated  a  few  from  the  jaws  of  the  devil,  than 
that  all  should  be  left  under  his  murderous  fangs." 

At  this  period  we  must  note  the  completion  of  that  change 
in  Luther's  views  which  had  commenced  at  the  time  of  his 
return  from  the  Wartburg.     A  principle  of  internal  life  no 
longer  satisfied  him  ;  the  Church  and  her  institutions  assumed 
a  high  importance  in  his  estimate.     The  fearlessness  with 
which  he  had  thrown  down  all  that  stood  in  the  way  of  his 
reforms,  drew  back  in  the  prospect  of  a  work  of  destruction, 
*  Cluod  adulator  principum  vocer.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  671.) 
t  Gaudent  papistse  de  nostro  dissidio.     (Ibid.  p.  612.) 
't  Q-ui   cum    toties    hactenus    sub    pedibu.s   meis  calcavit  et  contrivit 
leonem   et  draconem,    non   sinet   etiam   basiliscum   super  me  calcare. 
(Ibid.  p.  671.) 

§  Es  ist  besser  einige  aus  dem  Rachen  des  Teufels  herausreissen. 
(L.  0pp.  u.  Ed.  ix.  p.  961.) 


214      THE  REVOLT  AND  THE  REF0RMA.TION. 

far  more  radical  and  sweeping :  he  felt  the  necessity  for  pre- 
serving, ruling,  building  up, — and  it  was  in  the  centre  of  the 
blood-watered  ruins  with  which  the  war  of  the  peasants  had 
covered  Germany,  that  the  structure  of  the  new  Church  rose 
slowly  from  its  foundations. 

The  troubles  we  have  been  narrating  left  a  deep  and  en- 
during impression  on  the  minds  of  that  age.  Nations  were 
struck  with  consternation.  The  masses  who  had  sought  in 
the  Reformation  nothing  but  political  freedom,  withdrew  from 
it  of  their  own  accord,  when  they  saw  that  spiritual  liberty 
was  the  only  liberty  it  offered.  Luther's  opposition  to  the 
peasants  involved  the  renunciation  of  the  inconstant  favour  of 
the  people.  It  was  not  long  before  a  seeming  tranquillity 
was  restored,  and  the  silence  of  terror*  succeeded  to  the  out- 
breaks of  enthusiasm  and  sedition. 

Thus  the  popular  passions,  the  cause  of  revolution,  and 
radical  equality,  were  quelled  and  passed  away ;  but  the  Re- 
formation did  not  pass  away.  The  two  movements,  by  many 
confounded  with  each  other,  were  exhibited  in  the  distinctness 
of  their  character  by  the  diversity  of  their  resuUs.  The  revolt 
was  a  thing  of  earthly  origin,  the  Reformation  was  from 
above — some  cannon  and  soldiers  sufficed  to  put  down  the 
former,  but  the  latter  never  ceased  to  grow  and  strengthen,  in 
spite  of  the  reiterated  assaults  of  the  imperial  or  ecclesiastical 
powers. 

And  yet  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  itself  seemed  likely 
to  perish  in  the  gulph  in  which  the  liberties  of  the  people 
were  lost.  A  melancholy  event  appeared  likely  to  hasten  its 
ririi.  At  the  time  the  princes  were  in  full  march  against 
Munzer,  and  ten  days  before  the  final  defeat  of  the  peasants, 
the  aged  Elector  of  Saxony,  the  man  whom  God  had  raised 
up  to  defend  the  Reformation  against  external  dangers,  de- 
scended to  the  tomb. 

His  strength  had  been  daily  declining;  and  his  feeling 

*  Ea  res  incussit ....  vulgo  terrorem,  ut  nihil  usquam  moveatur, 
(Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  752.) 


THE  LAST  DAYS  OF  THE  ELECTOR  FREDERIC.   215 

heart  was  wrung  by  the  atrocities  which  stained  the  progress 
of  the  war  of  the  peasants.  "  Oh  1"  cried  he,  with  a  deep 
sigh,  "if  it  were  the  will  of  God,  I  would  gladly  be  released 
from  this  life.  I  see  nothing  left,  neither  love,  truth,  or  faith, 
or  any  thing  good  upon  this  earth."* 

Turning  from  the  thought  of  the  confusions  that  prevailed 
throughout  Germany,  the  pious  prince  quietly  prepared  him- 
self to  depart.  He  had  taken  up  his  abode  in  his  castle  of 
Lochau.  On  the  4th  of  May,  he  asked  for  his  chaplain,  the 
faithful  Spalatin :  "  You  do  well  to  visit  me,"  said  he  to  him 
as  he  entered  the  room,  "  for  it  is  well  to  visit  the  sick."  Then 
directing  that  his  couch  should  be  moved  toward  the  table 
where  Spalatin  was  seated,  he  desired  his  attendants  to  leave 
the  room,  and  affectionately  taking  his  friend's  hand,  spoke 
to  him  familiarly  of  Luther,  of  the  peasants,  and  of  his  ap- 
proaching end.  At  eight  that  same  evening  Spalatin  re- 
turned ;  the  aged  prince  opened  his  mind  to  him,  and  con- 
fessed his  sins,  in  the  presence  of  God.  The  next  morning, 
the  5th,  he  received  the  communion  under  both  kinds.  No 
member  of  his  family  was  present :  his  brother  and  his  nephew 
had  both  left  with  the  army  ;  but,  according  to  the  ancient 
custom  of  those  times,  his  domestics  stood  round  the  bed  gazing 
in  tearsf  upon  the  venerable  prince  whotn  it  had  been  their 
sweet  privilege  to  serve:  "My  little  children,"  said  he,  ten- 
derly, "  if  I  have  offended  any  one  of  you  forgive  me  for  the 
love  of  God  ;  for  we  princes  often  ofl^end  against  such  little 
ones,  and  it  ought  not  so  to  be."  In  this  way  did  Frederic 
conform  himself  to  the  apostle's  direction  that  the  rich  humble 
himself  when  he  is  brought  low,  "  because  as  the  flower  of 
the  grass  he  shall  pass  away."  J 

Spalatin  never  left  him.  He  set  before  him  with  glowing 
earnestness  the  glorious  promises  of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  pious 
Elector  drank  in  its  strong  consolations  with  unspeakable 
peace.     That  evangelic  doctrine  was  then  to  his  soul  no  longer 

*  Noch  etwas  gutes  mehr  in  der  Welt.     (Seckend.  p.  702.) 
t  Dass  alle  Umstehende  zum  weinen  bewegt.     (Ibid.) 
t  St.  James,  1  ch,  10th  ver. 


216       THE  ELECTOR  AND  THE  REFORMER. 

a  sword,  turned  against  false  teaching",  searching  it  in  all  its 
refuges  of  lies,  and  triumphing  over  it  at  every  turn  :  it  was  a 
shower — a  gentle  dew,  distilling  on  his  heart,  and  causing  it 
to  overflow  with  hope  and  joy.  God  and  eternity  Avere  alone 
present  to  his  thought. 

Feeling  his  death  rapidly  drawing  nigh,  he  destroyed  a 
will  he  had  made  some  years  before,  in  which  he  had  com 
mended  his  soul  to  "  the  Mother  of  God,"  and  dictated  another, 
in  which  he  cast  himself  on  the  spotless  and  availing  merit  of 
Jesus  Christ  "for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins,"  and  expressed 
his  firm  assurance  that  "he  was  redeemed  by  the  precious 
blood  of  his  beloved  Saviour."*  This  done,  he  added, — "  My 
strength  fails  me,  I  can  say  no  more ;"  and  at  five  the  same 
evening  he  "ftll  asleep."  "He  was  a  son  of  Peace,"  re- 
marked his  physician,  "and  in  peace  he  is  departed." — "  Oh  1'* 
said  Luther,  "  how  bitter  to  his  survivors  was  that  death." f 

It  is  remarkable  that  Luther,  who  just  at  that  time  was  on 
a  mission  of  peace,  trying  to  allay  the  excitement  left,  by  re- 
cent events,  on  the  minds  of  the  people  of  Thuringia,  had  never 
seen  the  Elector,  but  at  a  distance, — as  at  Worms,  when  the 
latter  was  seated  beside  Charles  the  Fifth.  But  from  the  mo- 
ment the  Reformation  appeared,  these  two  remarkable  men 
had  been  together  in  spirit.  Frederic  in  quest  of  the  national 
interest  and  independence, — Luther  in  quest  of  truth  and  re- 
formation. It  c.mnot  be  doubted  that  the  Reformation  was, 
in  jirinciple,  a  work  of  the  Spirit;  but,  in  order  to  its  gaining 
footing  on  the  earth,  it  was,  perhaps,  necessary  that  it  should 
be  linked  with  a  something  connected  with  the  interests  of  the 
nation.  Hence, — no  sooner  had  Luther  stood  up  against  in- 
dulgences, than  the  alliance  between  the  Monk  and  the  Prince 
was  tacitly  concluded, — an  alliance  in  its  nature  simply  moral, 
without  form  of  contract,  without  writing,  without  even  verbal 
communication, — an  alliance  in  which  the  stronger  lent  no  aid 
to  the  weaker  party,  but  that  which  consisted  in  leaving  him 

*  Durch  das  theure  Blut  meines  allerliebsten  Heylandes  erloset. 
(Seek.  p.  703.) 

t  O  mors  amara !     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  659.) 


DUKE  George's  confederacy.  217 

unmolested  to  his  work.  But  now  that  the  mighty  oak,  under 
the  shelter  of  which  the  Reformation  had  grown  up,  was  felled 
to  the  dust, — now  that  the  opposers  of  the  Gospel  gave  more 
free  expression  to  their  hatred,  and  its  supporters  were  obliged 
to  retire  or  to  be  silent,  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  was  left  to  de- 
fend it  against  the  sword  of  those  who  were  pursuing  it. 

The  confederates  of  Ratisbon,  after  the  complete  defeat  of 
the  peasants  of  the  southern  and  western  provinces,  proceeded 
to  vent  their  revenge  on  the  Reformation,  as  well  as  on  those 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  revolt.  At  Wurtzburg,  at  Bam- 
berg, inoffensive  citizens  were  put  to  death, — including  some 
who  had  even  opposed  themselves  to  the  peasants.  "  It  mat- 
ters not,"  it  was  opfnly  said,  "they  were  of  the  Gospellers," 
— and  they  were  beheaded.* 

Duke  George  sought  opportunity  to  infuse  into  the  minds 
of  the  Landgrave  and  Duke  John  his  own  prejudices  and  an- 
tipathies. "See,"  said  he,  after  the  rout  of  the  peasants,  point- 
ing to  the  field  of  carnage,  "see  what  miseries  Luther  has  oc- 
casioned." John  and  Philip  showed  signs  of  acquiescence. 
"  Duke  George,"  remarked  the  Reformer,  "flatters  himself  he 
shall  succeed,  now  that  Frederic  is  dead;  but  Christ  still 
reigns  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies.  Gnash  their  teeth  as  they 
will  the  desire  of  them  shall  perish."! 

George  lost  no  time  in  forming,  in  northern  Germany,  a 
confederacy  similar  to  that  of  Ratisbon.  The  Electors  of 
Mentz  and  Brandenburg, — Dukes  Henry,  Eric,  and  George, 
assembled  at  Dessau,  and  there  concluded  a  treaty  of  alliance 
in  the  interest  of  Rome.;}:  In  the  month  of  July,  George 
urged  the  new  Elector  and  his  son-in-law,  the  Landgrave,  to 
accede  to  it.  Then,  as  if  to  give  intimation  of  the  objects  of 
the  confederation,  he  beheaded  two  citizens  of  Leipsic,  who 
had  been  proved  to  have  in  their  possession  the  Reformer's 
writings. 

*  Ranke,  Deutsche  Gesch.  ii.  p.  226. 

t  Dux  Gorgius,  mortuo   Frederico,  putat  se  omnia  posse.     (L.  Epp. 
hi.  p.  22.) 

t  Habito  conciliabulo  conjuraverunt  restituros  sese  esse  omnia  .  .  . 
(Ibid.) 

VOL.    III.  19 


218  THE    NUNS    OF    NIMPTSCH. 

Just  at  this  time  letters  from  Charles  the  Fifth,  dated  from 
Toledo,  reached  Germany,  by  which  another  Diet  was  con- 
voked at  Augsburg.  Charles  wished  to  give  the  Empire  such 
a  constitution  as  would  allow  him  to  dispose,  at  will,  of  the 
military  force  of  Germany.  The  divisions  in  religion  favoured 
his  design.  He  had  but  to  let  loose  the  Catholics  against  the 
Gospellers ;  and  ,when  both  should  have  exhausted  their 
strength,  he  might  gain  an  easy  victory  over  both.  "  Away 
with  the  Lutherans,"*  was  therefore  the  cry  of  the  Emperor. 

Thus,  all  conspired  against  the  Reformation.  Never  could 
Luther's  spirit  have  been  bowed  down  by  such  manifold  ap- 
prehensions. The  surviving  sectaries  of  Munzer  had  vowed 
to  take  his  life.  His  sole  protector  was  no  more.  "  Duke 
George,"  wrote  some,  "  intended  to  arrest  him  in  Wittemberg 
itself  "f  The  Princes  who  could  have  defended  him,  one  after 
another  bowed  before  the  storm,  and  seemed  to  be  abandoning 
the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  The  University,  already  lowered  in 
credit  by  the  recent  confusions,  was,  according  to  rumour,  on 
the  point  of  being  suppressed  by  the  new  Elector.  Charles, 
after  his  victory  at  Pavia,  had  just  convoked  another  Diet, 
that  a  finishing  blow  might  be  dealt  against  the  Reformation. 
What  dangers,  then,  must  he  not  have  foreseen  ?  The  anxious 
mental  struggles  that  had  so  often  drawn  sobs  from  his  bosom 
again  wrung  his  heart.  How  should  he  bear  up  against  such 
multiplied  enemies?  In  the  very  crisis  of  this  agitation,  with 
all  these  accumulated  dangers  staring  him  in  the  face, — the 
corpse  of  Frederic  scarcely  cold,  and  the  plains  of  Germany 
still  strewed  with  the  unburied  bodies  of  the  peasants — Lu- 
ther,— none  surely  could  have  imagined  such  a  thing, — Lu- 
ther married ! 

In  the  monastery  of  Nimptsch,  near  Grimma,  in  Saxony, 
resided,  in  the  year  1523,  nine  nuns,  who  had  devoted  them 
selves  to  the  reading  of  God's  word,  and  had  discerned  the 
contrast  that  existed  between  the  christian  life  and  the  daily 

*  Sleidan.  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  i.  p.  214. 
t  Keil.  Luther's  Leben,  p.  160. 


CATHERINE    BORA.  219 

routine  of  their  cloister.  The  names  of  these  nuns  were 
Magdalene  Staupitz.  Elisa  Canitz,  Ave  Grossn,  Ave  and  Mar- 
garet Schonfeld,  Laneta  Golis,  Margaret  and  Catherine  Ze- 
schau.  and  Catherine  Bora.  The  first  step  taken  by  these  young 
women,  after  their  minds  were  delivered  from  the  superstitions 
of  their  monastery,  was  to  write  to  their  relations — "  Our  con- 
tinuance in  a  cloister,"  said  they,  "  is  incompatible  with  the 
salvation  of  our  souls."*  Their  parents,  dreading  the  trouble 
such  a  resolution  was  likely  to  occasion  to  themselves,  repelled 
with  harshness  the  entreaties  of  their  children.  The  poor 
nuns  were  overwhelmed  with  distress.  How  to  leave  their 
nunnery  !  their  timidity  took  alarm  at  so  desperate  a  decision. 
At  last,  their  horror  of  the  Papal  services  prevailed,  and  they 
mutually  promised  not  to  part  company,  but  together  to  find 
their  way  to  some  respectable  quartei^with  decency  and  order.f 
Two  respected  and  pious  citizens  of  Torgau,  Leonard  Koppe 
and  WolfT  Tomitzch,  tendered  their  assistance^ — they  wel- 
comed it  as  of  God's  sending,  and  quitted  the  convent  of 
Nimptsch  without  any  hindrance  being  interposed,  as  if  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  had  set  open  its  gates.  ^  Koppe  and  To- 
mitzch were  in  waiting  to  receive  them  in  their  waggon — and 
on  the  7th  of  April,  the  nine  nuns,  amazed  at  their  own  bold- 
ness, drew  up  in  deep  emotion  at  the  gate  of  the  old  convent  of 
the  Augustines  where  Luther  resided. 

"  This  is  not  my  doing,"  said  Luther,  as  he  received  them, 
"but  would  to  God  I  could,  in  this  w^ay,  give  liberty  to  en- 
slaved consciences,  and  empty  the  cloisters  of  their  tenants.  A 
breach  is  made,  however."  |{  Several  persons  proposed  to  the 
doctor  to  receive  the  nuns  into  their  houses,  and  Catherine 
Bora  found  a  welcome  in  the  family  of  the  burgomaster  of 
Wittemberg. 

If  Luther  had  then  before  him  the  prospect  of  any  solemn 

*  Der  Seelen  Seligkeit  halber.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  323.) 

t  Mit  aller  Zucht  und  Ehre  an  redliche  Sttitte  und  Orte  kommen. 
(Ibid.  p.  322.) 

t  Per  honestos  cives  Torgavienses  adductae.     (Ibid.  p.  319.) 

§  Mirabiliter  evaserunt.     (Ibid.) 

a  Und  alle  Kloster  ledig  machen.    (Ibid.  p.  322.) 


220  THE    DESERTED    CONVENT. 

event,  it  was  that  he  should  be  called  to  ascend  the  scaffold, 
not  the  steps  of  the  altar.  Many  months  after  this,  he  answer- 
ed those  who  spoke  of  marriage — "  God  may  change  my 
purpose,  if  such  be  His  pleasure  ;  but  at  present  I  have  no 
thought  of  taking  a  wife ;  not  that  I  am  insensible  to  the 
charms  of  a  married  life ;  I  am  neither  wood  nor  stone ;  but 
I  every  day  expect  death  and  the  punishment  of  a  heretic."* 

And  yet  all  was  moving  onward  in  the  church.  The  habits 
of  monastic  life,  invented  by  man,  were  on  all  sides  giving 
place  to  the  habits  of  domestic  life,  instituted  by  God.  On 
Sunday,  the  9th  of  October,  Luther,  on  rising,  laid  aside  his 
monk's  gown,  assumed  the  garb  of  a  secular  priest,  and  then 
made  his  appearance  in  the  church,  where  this  transformation 
caused  a  lively  satisfaction.  Christianity,  in  its  renewed  youth, 
hailed  with  transport  everything  that  announced  that  the  old 
things  were  passed  away. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  last  monk  quitted  the  convent. 
Luther  remained  behind  ;  his  footsteps  alone  re-echoed  in  its 
long  corridors — he  sat  silent  and  alone  in  the  refectory,  so 
lately  vocal  with  the  babble  of  the  monks.  A  speaking  si- 
lence !  attesting  the  triumph  of  the  Word  of  God.  The  con- 
vent had,  indeed,  ceased  to  have  any  existence.  Luther,  to- 
ward the  end  of  December,  1524,  transmitted  to  the  Elector 
the  keys  of  the  monastery,  together  with  a  message,  that  him- 
self would  see  where  it  might  be  God's  will  to  feed  him.f 
The  Elector  made  over  the  convent  to  the  university,  and  de- 
sired Luther  to  continue  to  reside  in  it.  The  abode  of  the 
monks  was,  ere  long,  to  become  liie  home  of  a  Christian  fa- 
mily. 

Luther,  who  had  a  heart  happily  constituted  for  relishing 
the  sweetness  of  domestic  life,  honoured  and  loved  the  mar- 
riage state.  It  is  even  likely  that  he  had  some  preference  for 
Catherine  Bora.  For  a  long  while,  his  scruples  and  the 
thought  of  the  calumnies  which  such  a  step  would  occasion, 

*  Cum  expectam  quotidie   mortem  et  meritum  hseretici  supplicium 
(L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  570,  30th  Nov.  1524.) 
t  Muss  und  will  Ich  sehen  wo  mich  Gott  ernahret.    (Ibid.p.  582.) 


LUTHER  S  THOUGHTS  ON  MATRIMONY.       221 

had  hindered  his  thinking  of  her  ;  and  he  had  offered  the  hand 
of  poor  Catherine  first  to  Baiimgartner  of  Nuremberg-,*  and 
afterwards  to  Doctor  Glatz,  of  Orhimund.  But  when  Baum- 
gartner  declined,  and  Cntherine  herself  refused  Glatz,  he  be- 
gan more  seriously  to  consider  whether  he  himself  ought  not 
to  think  of  making  her  his  wife. 

His  aged  fiither,  who  had  been  so  much  grieved  when  he 
first  took  upon  him  the  profession  of  an  ecclesfastic,  urged 
him  to  marry. t  But  one  thought  above  all  was  present  in 
much  power  to  the  conscience  of  Luther.  Marriage  is  God's 
appointment — celibacy  is  man's.  He  abhorred  whatever  bore 
the  stamp  of  Rome.  "  I  desire,"  said  he,  to  his  friends,  "  to 
have  nothing  left  of  my  papistic  life."J  Night  and  day  he 
besought  the  Lord  to  put  an  end  to  his  uncertainty.  At  last  a 
thought  came  to  break  the  last  ties  which  held  him  back.  To 
all  the  considerations  of  consistency  and  personal  obedience 
which  taught  him  to  apply  to  himself  that  word  of  God — It 
is  not  good  that  man  should  he  alone^ — was  added  a  higher 
and  more  powerful  motive.  He  recognized  that  if  as  a  man 
he  was  called  to  the  marriage  state,  he  was  also  called  to  it  as 
a  Reformer.     This  thought  decided  him. 

"If  that  monk  marries,"  said  his  friend  Schurff  the  juris- 
consult, "  he  will  cause  men  and  devils  to  shout  with  laughter, || 
and  bring  ruin  upon  all  that  he  has  hitherto  efTccted.'*  This 
remark  had  upon  Luther  an  effect  the  very  reverse  of  what 
might  have  been  expected.  To  brave  the  world,  the  devil, 
and  his  enemies,  and,  by  an  act  in  man's  judgment  the  most 
likely  to  ruin  the  Reformation,  make  it  evident  that  its  triumph 
was  not  to  be  ascribed  to  him,  was  the  very  thing  he  most  of 
all  desired.  Accordingly,  lifting  up  his  head,  he  boldly  re- 
plied,— "I'll  do  it!  I  will  play  this  trick  to  the  world  and 
the  devil! — I'll  content  my  father  and  marry  Catherine!" 

*  Si  vis  Ketam  tuam  a  Bora  tenere.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  553.) 
+  Aus  Begehren  meineslieben  Vaters.     (Ibid.  iii.  p.  2.) 
X  Ibid.  p.  1.  §  Genesis  ii.  18. 

II  Risuros  mundum  universum  et  diabolum  ipsum.  (M.  Ad.  Vit. 
Luth.  p.  130.) 

19* 


222  LUTHER  S    MARRIAGE. 

Luther,  by  his  marriage,  broke  even  more  irrevocably  with 
the  institutions  of  the  Papacy.  He  sealed  his  doctrine  by  his 
own  example, — and  emboldened  the  timid  to  an  entire  renun- 
ciation of  their  delusions.*  Rome  had  seemed  to  be  here  and 
there  recovering  the  ground  she  had  lost,  and  might  have  been 
indulging  in  dreams  of  victory; — but  here  was  a  loud  explo- 
sion that  carried  wonder  and  terror  into  her  ranks,  and  discov- 
ered, more  clearly  than  ever,  the  courage  of  the  enemy  she 
had  pictured  to  herself  defeated  and  depressed.  "  I  am  deter- 
mined," said  Luther,  "  to  bear  witness  to  the  Gospel,  not  by 
my  words  alone,  but  by  my  actions.  I  am  determined,  in  the 
face  of  my  enemies,  who  already  are  triumphing  and  exulting 
over  me,  to  marry  a  nun, — that  they  may  know  that  they  have 
not  conquered  me.f  I  do  not  take  a  wife  that  I  may  live  long 
with  her ;  but,  seeing  people  and  princes  letting  loose  their 
fury  against  me, — in  the  prospect  of  death,  and  of  their  again 
trampling  my  doctrine  under  foot,  I  am  resolved  to  edify  the 
weak,  by  leaving  on  record  a  striking  confirmation  of  the  truth 
of  what  I  have  taught."J 

On  the  Uth  of  June,  Luther  repaired  to  the  house  of  his 
friend  and  colleague  Amsdorff  He  requested  Pomeranus, 
whom  he  dignified  with  the  special  character  of  the  Pastor,  to 
give  them  the  nuptial  benediction.  Lucas  Cranachand  Doc- 
tor John  Apelles  witnessed  their  marriage.  Melancthon  was 
not  present. 

No  sooner  had  Luther's  marriage  taken  place  than  all 
Christendom  was  roused  by  the  report  of  it.  On  all  sides  ac- 
cusations and  calumnies  were  heaped  upon  him.  '■  It  is  in- 
cest," exclaimed  Henry  the  Eighth.  "  A  monk  has  married 
a  vestal  !"^  said  some.  "  Antichrist  must  be  the  fruit  of  such 
a  union,"  said  others  ;  "for  it  has  been  predicted  that  he  will 

*  Ut  confirmem  facto  quse  docui,  tam  multos  invenio  pusillanimes  m 
tanta  luce  Evangelii.     (L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  13.) 

+  Nonna  ducta  uxore  in  despectum  triumphantium  et  clamantium 
Jo!  Jo!  hostium.     (Ibid.  p.  21.) 

%  Non  duxi  uxorem  ut  diu  viverem,  sed  quod  nunc  propiorem  finem 
meum  suspicarer.     (Ibid.  p.  32.) 

§  Monachus  cum  vestali  copularetur.     (M.  Ad.  Vit.  Luth.  p.  131.) 


223 

be  the  offspring  of  a  monk  and  a  nun."  To  which  Erasmus 
made  answer,  with  malicious  sneer.  "  If  that  prophecy  be  true, 
what  thousands  of  Antichrists  the  world  has  before  now  seen."* 
But  while  these  attacks  were  directed  against  Luther,  some 
prudent  and  moderate  men,  in  the  communion  of  the  Church 
of  Ronne,  undertook  his  defence.  "  Luther,"  said  Erasmus, 
"  has  taken  to  wife  a  female  of  the  noble  house  of  Bora, — but 
she  brought  him  no  dowry."!  One  whose  testimony  carries 
still  more  weight,  bore  witness  in  his  favour.  Philip  Melanc- 
thon,  the  honoured  teacher  of  Germany,  who  had  at  first  been 
alarmed  by  so  bold  a  step,  now  remarked  with  that  grave  con- 
scientiousness which  commanded  respect  even  from  his  ene- 
mies :  "  If  it  is  asserted  that  there  has  been  anything  unbe- 
coming in  the  affair  of  Luther's  marriage,  it  is  a  false  slander.  J 
It  is  my  opinion,  that,  in  marrying,  he  must  have  done  vio- 
lence to  his  inclination.  The  marriage  state,  I  allow,  is  one 
of  humility, — but  it  is  also  one  of  sanctity — if  there  be  any 
sanctity  in  this  world ;  and  the  Scriptures  everywhere  speak 
of  it  as  honourable  in  God's  sight." 

At  first  Luther  was  disturbed  by  the  reproaches  and  indig- 
nities showered  upon  him.  Melancthon  showed  more  than 
his  usual  kindness  and  afl^ection  towards  him  ;^  audit  was  not 
long  before  the  Reformer  was  enabled  to  discern,  in  men's 
opposition,  one  mark  of  God's  approval.  "  If  the  world  were 
not  scandalized  by  what  I  have  done,"  said  he,  "  I  should 
have  reason  to  fear  that  it  was  not  according  to  God's  mind."|| 

Eight  years  had  elapsed  between  the  period  when  Luther 
first  preached  against  indulgences,  and  the  time  of  his  union 
with  Catherine  Bora.  It  would  be  difficult  to  attribute,  as  is 
sometimes  done,  his  zeal  against  the  corruptions  of  the  Church 

*  Cluot  Antichristorum  millia  jam  olim  habet  mundus.  (Er.  Epp. 
p.  789.) 

t  Erasmus  adds : — Partu  maturo  sponsae  vanus  erat  rumor.  (Er. 
Epp.  p.  780,  789.) 

t  'On  xptvhg  TovTo  koX  Sia0o\rj  can.     (Corp.  Ref,  i,  p.  753  ad  Cam.) 

§  Tlaaa  (TirovSrj  kuX  evvoia,      (Ibid.) 

II  Offenditur  etiam  in  came  ipsius  divinitatis  et  creatoris,  he  adds. 
(L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  32.} 


224  DOMESTIC    HAPPINESS. 

to  an  eager  desire  to  enter  into  the  marriage  state.  He  was 
already  turned  forty-two  ;  and  Catherine  had  passed  two  years 
at  Witlemberg  since  leaving  the  convent. 

Luther's  marriage  was  a  happy  one:  "The  greatest  of 
earthly  blessings,"  said  he,  "  is  a  pious  and  amiable  wife, — 
who  fears  God  and  loves  her  family,  one  with  whom  a  man 
may  live  in  peace  and  in  whom  he  may  repose  perfect  confi- 
dence." 

Some  time  after,  in  writing  to  one  of  his  friends,  he  intimat- 
ed that  his  Catherine  might  soon  present  him  with  a  child  ;* 
and,  in  fact,  just  one  year  after  their  marriage,  Catherine  was 
delivered  of  a  boy. t  The  charms  of  domestic  life  soon  dis- 
pelled the  dark  clouds  raised  around  him  by  the  wrath  of  his 
adversaries.  His  Ketha,  as  he  called  her,  manifested  towards 
him  the  tenderest  affection,  comforting  him,  when  cast  down, 
by  reciting  passages  of  the  Bible,  relieving  him  from  the  cares 
of  the  household,  sitting  by  him  in  his  intervals  of  leisure, 
while  she  worked  his  portrait  in  embroidery,  or  reminded  him 
of  the  friends  he  had  neglected  to  write  to,  and  amused  him  by 
the  simplicity  of  her  questions.  A  sort  of  dignity  seems  to 
have  marked  her  deportment,  for  Luther  occasionally  spoke 
of  her  as  "  My  Lord  Catherine.''^  One  one  occasion  he  said, 
jesting,  that  if  ever  he  had  to  marry  again,  he  would  chisel  an 
obedient  \\\{q  in  stone,  for,  added  he,  "  there  is  no  possi- 
bility of  finding  a  real  one."  His  letters  were  full  of  tender- 
ness for  Catherine,  whom  he  styled,  "  his  dear  and  gracious 
wife^^ — '■'■  his  dear  and  amiable  Ketha.''^  Luther's  manner 
acquired  more  playfulness  from  the  society  o-f  his  Catherine  ; 
and  that  happy  flow  of  spirits  continued  from  that  time,  and 
was  never  lost  even  in  the  most  trying  circumstances. 

Such  was  the  almost  universal  corruption  of  the  clergy,  that 
the  priestly  office  had  fallen  into  almost  general  disrepute  :  the 
isolated  virtue  of  a  few  faithful  servants  of  God  had  not  sufficed 

*  21st  Oct.  1525.  Catena  mea  simulat  vel  vere  implet  illud  Genes  3. 
Tu  dolore  gravida  eris.     (L.  Epp.  iii.  p.  35.) 

t  Mir  meine  liebe  Kethe  einen  Hansen  Luther  bracht  hat,  gestern 
urn  zwei.    (8th  June,  1526.    Ibid.  p.  119.) 


THE    ELECTOR    JOHN.  225 

to  redeem  it  from  contempt.  Family  peace  and  conjugal 
fidelity  were  continually  being  disturbed,  both  in  towns  and 
rural  districts,  by  the  gross  passions  of  priests  and  monks; — 
none  were  safe  from  their  seductions.  The  free  access  allowed 
them  to  families,  and  sometimes  even  the  confidence  of  the 
confessional,  was  basely  perverted  into  an  opportunity  of  in- 
stilling deadly  poison,  that  they  might  gratify  their  guilty  de- 
sires. The  Reformation,  by  abolishing  the  celibacy  of  the 
ecclesiastics,  restored  the  sanctity  of  wedlock.  The  marriage 
of  the  clergy  put  an  end  to  an  untold  amount  of  secret  profli- 
gacy. The  Reformers  became  examples  to  their  flocks  in  the 
most  endearing  and  important  of  all  human  relationships, — 
and  it  was  not  long  before  the  people  rejoiced  to  see  the  minis- 
ters of  religion  in  the  character  of  husbands  and  fathers. 

On  a  hasty  view,  Luther's  marriage  had  indeed  seemed  to 
multiply  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  Reformation.  It 
was  still  suffering  from  the  effects  of  the  revolt  of  the  peasants; 
the  sword  of  the  Emperor  and  of  the  princes  was  unsheathed 
against  it ;  and  its  friends,  the  Landgrave  Philip,  and  the  new 
Elector  John,  appeared  discouraged  and  silenced. 

Nevertheless,  this  state  of  things  was  of  no  long  duration. 
The  young  Landgrave  ere  long,  boldly  raised  his  head.  Ar- 
dent and  fearless  as  Luther,  the  manly  spirit  of  the  Reformer 
had  won  his  emulation.  He  threw  himself  with  youthful 
daring  into  the  ranks  of  the  Reformation,  while  he  at  the  same 
time  studied  its  character  with  the  grave  intelligence  of  a 
thoughtful  mind. 

In  Saxony,  the  loss  of  Frederic's  prudence  and  influence 
was  but  ill  supplied  by  his  successor ;  but  the  Elector's  bro- 
ther, Duke  John,  instead  of  confining  himself  to  the  office  of 
a  protector,  intervened  directly  and  courageously  in  matters 
affecting  religion  :  "  I  desire,"  said  he,  in  a  speech  communi- 
cated to  the  assembled  clergy,  on  the  16th  August,  1525,  as  he 
was  on  the  point  of  quitting  Weimar,  ''that  you  will  in  future 
preach  the  pure  word  of  God,  apart  from  those  things  which 
man  has  added."  Some  of  the  older  clergy,  not  knowing  how 
to  §et  about  obeying  his  directions,  answered  with  simplicity, 


226  THE    LANDGRAVE    PHlLlP. 

— "But  Ave  are  not  forbidden  to  say  mass  for  the  dead,  or  to 
bless  the  water  and  salt?" — "  Every  thing, — no  matter  what," 
' — replied  the  Elector,  "  must  be  conformed  to  God's  word." 

Soon  after,  the  young  Landgrave  conceived  the  romantic 
hope  of  converting  Duke  George,  his  father-in-law.  Some- 
times he  w^ould  demonstrate  the  sufficiency  of  the  Scriptures — 
another  time  he  would  expose  the  Mass,  the  Papacy,  and 
compulsory  vows.  His  letters  followed  quick  upon  each  other, 
and  the  various  testimony  of  God's  word  was  all  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  old  Duke's  faith.* 

These  efforts  w^ere  not  without  results.  Duke  George's 
son  was  won  to  the  new  opinions.  But  Philip  failed  with  the 
father. — "  A  hundred  years  hence,"  said  the  latter,  "  and  you 
will  see  who  is  right." — "  Awful  speech !"  observed  the  Elec- 
tor of  Saxony:  "  What  can  be  the  worth,  I  pray  you,  of  a 
faith  that  needs  so  much  previous  reflection ?t — Poor  Duke! 
he  will  hold  back  long — I  fear  God  has  hardened  his  heart, 
as  Pharaoh's,  in  old  time." 

In  Philip,  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  possessed  a  leader,  at 
once  bold,  intelligent,  and  capable  of  making  head  against  the 
formidable  assaults  its  enemies  were  planning.  But  is  it  not 
sad  to  think,  that  from  this  moment  the  leader  of  the  Reforma- 
tion should  be  a  soldier,  and  not  simply  a  disciple  of  God's 
word?  Man's  part  in  the  work  was  seen  in  due  expansion, 
and  its  spiritual  element  was  proportionably  contracted.  The 
work  itself  suffered  in  consequence,  for  every  work  should  be 
permitted  to  develop  itself,  according  to  the  laws  of  its  own 
nature, — and  the  Reformation  was  of  a  nature  essentially 
spiritual. 

God  was  multiplying  external  supports.  Already  a  power- 
ful state  on  the  German  frontier — Prussia — unfurled  with  joy 
the  standard  of  the  Gospel.  The  chivalrous  and  religious 
spirit  that  had  founded  the  Teutonic  order,  had  gradually  be- 
come extinct  with  the  memory  of  the  ages  in  which  it  arose. 

*  Rommels  Urkundenbuch.     I.  p.  2, 

t  Was  das  fur  ein  Glaube  sey,  der  eine  solche  Erfuhrung  erfordert, 
(Seckeijd.  p.  739.) 


poliander's  hymn.  S27 

The  knights,  intent  only  upon  their  private  interests,  had  given 
dissatisfaction  to  the  people  over  whom  they  presided.  Poland 
had  seized  the  opportunity  to  impose  her  suzerainty  on  the 
order.  People,  knights,  grand  master,  Polish  influence,  were 
so  many  different  intereslscontinualIyconflieting,and  rendering 
the  prosperity  of  the  country  impossible. 

In  this  state  of  things,  the  Reformation  found  them,  and  all 
men  saw  in  it  the  only  way  of  deliverance  for  that  unfortu- 
nate people.  Brisman,  Speratus,  Poliander,  (who  had  been 
secretary  to  Eck,  at  the  time  of  the  Leipsic  discussion,)  and 
others  besides,  preached  the  Gospel  in  Prussia. 

One  day  a  beggar,  coming  from  the  lands  under  the  rule 
of  the  Teutonic  knights,  arrived  in  Wittemberg ;  and,  stop- 
ping before  the  residence  of  Luther,  sang  slowly  that  noble 
hymn  of  Poliander's, 

"  At  length  redemption's  come."* 

The  Reformer,  who  had  never  heard  this  Christian  hymn, 
listened,  rapt  in  astonishment.  The  foreign  accent  of  the 
singer  heightened  his  joy.  "  Again,  again,"  cried  he,  when 
the  beggar  had  ended.  Afterwards  he  enquired  where  he 
had  learned  that  hymn,  and  tears  filled  his  eyes,  when  he 
heard  from  the  poor  man  that  it  was  from  the  shores  of  the 
Baltic  that  this  shout  of  deliverance  was  sounding  as  far  as 
Wittemberg: — then,  clasping  his  hands,  he  gave  thanks  to 
God.t 

In  truth  Redemption  was  come  even  thither  ! 

"  Take  compassion  on  our  weakness,"  said  the  people  of 
Prussia  to  the  Grand  Master,  "  and  send  us  preachers  Avho 
may  proclaim  the  pure  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ."  Albert  at 
first  gave  no  answer,  but  he  entered  into  parley  with  Sigis- 
mund  king  of  Poland,  his  uncle  and  suzerain  lord. 

The  latter  acknowledged  him  as  hereditary  Duke  of 
Prussia, J  and  the  new  prince  made  his  entry  into  his  capital 
of  Konigsberg,  amidst  the  ringing  of  bells,  and  acclamations 

*  Es  ist  das  Heyl  uns  kommen  her. 

t  Dankte  Gott  mit  FreuJen.     (Seek.  p.  668.) 

[t  Sleidan,  Hist,  de  la  Ref.  p.  220. 


228  NEW    ORDINATION. 

of  the  inhabitants,  who  had  decorated  their  houses,  and  strewed 
their  streets  with  flowers.  "  There  is  but  One  religious  order," 
said  Albert,  "  and  it  is  as  comprehensive  as  Christianity  itself!" 
The  monastic  orders  vanished,  and  that  divinely  appointed 
order  was  restored. 

The  bishops  surrendered  their  secular  rights  to  the  new 
Duke ;  the  convents'  were  converted  into  hospitals ;  and  the 
Gospel  carried  into  the  poorest  villages ;  and  in  the  year  fol- 
lowing, Albert  married  Dorothy,  daughter  of  the  king  of 
Denmark,  whose  faith  in  the  one  Saviour  was  unshaken. 

The  Pope  called  upon  the  Emperor  to  take  measures 
against  the  "  apostate"  monk  ; — and  Charles  placed  Albert 
under  interdict. 

Another  prince  of  the  house  of  Brandenburg,  the  Cardinal- 
Archbishop  of  Mentz.  was  just  then  on  the  point  of  following 
his  relation's  example.  The  revolt  of  the  peasants  was  espe- 
cially menacing  in  its  aspect  toward  the  ecclesiastical  princi- 
palities ;  the  Elector,  Luther,  and  all  Germany  thought  a 
great  revolution  was  at  hand.  The  Archbishop  seeing  no 
better  way  to  preserve  his  principality  than  to  render  it  secu- 
lar, privately  requested  Luther  to  sound  the  minds  of  the  people 
preparatory  to  so  decided  a  step.* — which  Luther  accordingly 
did,  in  a  letter  written  with  a  view  to  its  being  made  public, 
wherein  he  said  that  the  hand  of  God  was  heavy  on  the  clergy, 
and  that  nothing  could  save  them.f  However  the  War  of  the 
peasants  having  been  brought  to  an  earlier  termination  than 
had  been  looked  for:  the  Cardinal  retained  possession  of  his 
temporalities — his  uneasiness  subsided,  and  all  thoughts  of  se- 
cularizing his  position  were  dismissed  ! 

Whilst  John  of  Saxony,  Philip  of  Hesse,  and  Albert  of 
Prussia,  were  openly  taking  part  with  the  Reformation,  and 
thus,  in  place  of  the  cautious  Frederic,  three  princes  of  bold 
and  decided  character  were  standing  forward  in  its  support, 
the  blessed  Word  was  working  its  way  in  the  Church,  and 
among  the  nations.     Luther  besought  the  Elector  to  estabhsh 

»  Seckend.  p.   712. 

+  Er  muss  herunter.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  674.) 


DIET     AT    AUGSBURG.  229 

generally  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  place  of  the  minis- 
trations of  Romish  priests,  and  to  direct  a  general  visitation  of 
the  churches.*  About  the  same  time  at  Wittemberg  they 
began  to  exercise  the  episcopal  function,  andoidain  ministers; 
"  Let  not  the  Pope,  the  bishops,  or  the  monks,  exclaim  against 
us,"  said  Melancthon,  "  we  are  the  Church ; — he  who  sepa- 
rates fiom  us  separates  himself  from  the  Church,  There  is 
no  other  Church — save  the  assembly  of  those  who  have  the 
word  of  God,  and  who  are  purified  by  it."t 

All  this  could  not  be  said  and  done  without  occasioning  a 
strong  reaction.  Rome  had  thought  the  Reformation  extin- 
guished in  the  blood  of  the  rebel  peasants — but  in  all  quarters 
its  flame  was  rising  more  bright  and  powerful  than  ever.  She 
decided  on  making  one  more  effort.  The  Pope  and  the  Em- 
peior  wrote  menacing  letters,  the  former  from  Rome,  the  lat- 
ter from  Spain.  The  Imperial  government  took  measures 
for  restoring  the  ancient  order  of  things,  and  preparations 
were  made  for  finally  crushing  the  Reformation  at  the  ap- 
proaching Diet.  • 

The  electoral  Prince  of  Saxony,  and  the  Landgrave,  in 
some  alarm,  met  on  the  7th  of  November  in  the  castle  of 
Friedewalr,  and  came  to  an  agreement  that  their  deputies  at 
the  Diet  should  act  in  concert.  Thus  in  the  forest  of  SuUin- 
gen  aros"  the  eailiest  elements  of  an  evangelical  association 
in  opposition  to  the  leagues  of  Ratisbon  and  Dessau. 

The  Diet  opened  on  the  11th  of  December,  at  Augsburg. 
The  princes  favourable  to  the  Gospel  were  not  present,  but 
the  deputies  fiom  Saxony  and  Hesse  spoke  out  fearlessly: 
"The  rising  of  the  peasants,"  said  they,  "was  the  effect  of 
impolitic  and  harsh  usage.  God's  truth  is  not  to  be  torn  from 
the  heart  by  fire  and  sword  :  if  you  are  bent  on  resorting  to 
violence  against  the  reformed  opinions,  you  will  bring  down 
upon  us  calamities  more  terrible  than  those  from  which  we 
have  but  just  escaped." 

*  L.  Epp.  Hi.  p.  28,  38,  51,  &c. 

t  Dass  Kirche  sey  allein  iliejenige,  so  Gottes  Wort  haben  und  damil 
gereinigct  werden.     (Corp.  Ref.  i.  p.  7tJtj.) 
VOL.    III.  20 


230  LEAGUE    OF    TORGAU. 

It  was  felt  that  the  resolution  of  the  Diet  must  be  most  im» 
portant  in  its  results.  Every  one  desired,  by  postponing  the 
decisive  moment,  to  gain  time  to  strengthen  his  own  position. 
It  was  accordingly  resolved,  that  the  Diet  should  re-assemble 
at  Spires  in  the  month  of  May  following;  and  in  the  mean- 
while the  rescript  of  Nuremberg  was  to  continue  in  force. 
"  When  the  Diet  meet  again,"  said  they,  "  we  will  go  fully 
into  the  questions  of  '  the  holy  faith, — public  rights, — and  the 
general  peace.'  " 

The  Landgrave  pursued  his  plan.  Toward  the  end  of 
February,  1526,  he  had  a  conference  with  the  Elector  at 
Gotha.  The  two  princes  came  to  an  understanding,  that  if 
attacked  on  account  of  the  word  of  God,  they  would  unite 
their  forces  to  resist  their  adversaries.  This  alliance  was 
formally  ratified  at  Torgau,  and  was  destined  to  be  fruitful  in 
important  consequences. 

However,  the  alliance  he  had  concluded  was  of  itself  not 
enough  to  satisfy  the  Landgrave.  Convinced  that  Charles 
was  at  work  to  compact  a  league  "  against  Christ  and  his 
holy  word,"  he  addressed  letter  after  letter  to  the  Elector, 
urging  upon  him  the  necessity  of  uniting  with  other  states: 
"  For  myself,"  said  he,  "  rather  would  I  die  than  deny  the 
word  of  God,  and  allow  myself  to  be  driven  from  my  throne."* 

At  the  Elector's  court  much  uncertainty  prevailed.  In 
fact,  a  serious  difficulty  stood  in  the  way  of  union  between  the 
princes  favourable  to  the  Gospel ;  and  this  difficulty  origi- 
nated with  Luther  and  Melancthon.  Luther  insisted  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel  should  be  defended  by  God  alone.  He 
thought  that  the  less  man  meddled  in  the  work,  the  more 
striking  would  be  God's  intervention  in  its  behalf  All  the 
politic  precautions  suggested,  were  in  his  view  attributable  to 
unworthy  fear  and  sinful  mistrust.  Melancthon  dreaded  lest 
an  alliance  between  the  evangelical  princes  should  hasten  that 
veiy  struggle  which  it  was  their  object  to  avert. 

The  Landgrave  was  not  to  be  deterred  by  such  considera- 
tions, and  laboured  to  gain  over  the  neighbouring  states  to  the 
*  Seckendorf,  p.  7G8. 


THE    EVANGELIC    UNION.  231 

alliance,  but  he  failed  in  his  endeavours.  The  Elector  of 
Treves  abandoned  the  ranks  of  the  opposition,  and  accepted  a 
pension  from  the  Emperor.  Even  the  Elector  Palatine, 
whose  disposition  was  known  to  be  favourable  to  the  Gospel, 
declined  Philip's  advances. 

Thus,  in  the  direction  of  the  Rhine,  the  Landgrave  had 
completely  failed  ;  but  the  Elector,  in  opposition  to  the  advice 
of  the  reformed  divines,  opened  negociations  with  the  princes 
who  had  in  all  times  gathered  round  the  standard  of  the  pow- 
erful chief  of  Saxony.  On  the  12. h  day  of  June,  the  Elector 
and  his  son,  the  Dukes  Philip,  Ernest,  Otho  and  Francis  of 
Brunswick  and  Lunenburg,  Duke  Henry  of  Mecklenburg, 
Prince  Wolf  of  Anhalt,  Counts  Albert  and  Gebhard  of  Mans- 
feld,  assembled  at  Magdeburg,  and  there,  under  the  presidence 
of  the  Elector,  they  contracted  an  alliance  similar  to  that  of 
Torgau. 

"  Almighty  God,"  said  the  princes,  "  having  in  his  un- 
speakable mercy  again  brought  forward  among  men  his  holy 
and  eternal  word,  the  food  of  our  souls,  and  our  richest  treasure 
on  this  earth, — and  great  efforts  being  made  by  the  clergy 
and  their  adherents  to  suppress  and  extirpate  it, — we, — being 
well  assured  that  He  who  has  sent  it  forth  to  glorify  his  name 
upon  earih,  will  know  how  to  maintain  it,  mutually  engage 
to  preserve  that  blessed  word  to  our  people,  and  to  employ  for 
this  end  our  goods,  and  our  lives,  the  resources  of  our  states, 
and  the  arms  of  our  subjects,  and  all  that  we  have,  putting  our 
trust  not  in  our  armies,  but  solely  in  the  almighty  power  of 
the  Lord,  of  w^hom  we  desire  to  be  but  the  instruments."*  So 
spoke  the  princes. 

Two  days  after,  the  city  of  Magdeburg  was  received  into 
the  alliance,  and  Albert  of  Brandenburg,  the  new  Duke  of 
Prussia,  acceded  to  it  by  a  separate  convention. 

The  Evangelic  Union  was  formed ;  but  the  dangers  it  was 
destined  to  ward  off  seemed  every  day  to  become  more  threat- 
ening.    The  priests,  and  such  of  the  princes  as  adhered  to  the 

*  Allein  auf  Gott  den  AUmachtigen,  als  dessen  Werkzeuge  sie 
handeln.     (Hortleber,  Ursache  des  deutschen  Krieges,  i.  p.  1490.) 


Romish  party,  had  seen  the  Reformation,  which  they  had 
thought  stifled,  suddenly  growing  up  before  them  to  a  formi- 
dable iieight.  Already  the  partisans  of  the  Reformation  were 
nearly  as  numerous  as  those  of  the  Pope.  If  they  should  form 
a  majority  in  the  Diet,  the  consequences  to  the  ecclesiastical 
states  might  be  imagined.  Now  or  never  !  It  was  no  longer 
a  heresy  to  be  refuted,  but  a  powerful  party  to  be  withstood. 
Victories  of  a  different  kind  from  those  of  Eck  were  needed 
on  this  occasion. 

Vigorous  measures  had  been  already  taken.  The  metro- 
politan chapter  of  the  church  of  Mentz  had  convoked  an  as- 
sembly of  its  suffragans,  and  adopted  the  resolution  to  send  a 
deputation  to  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope,  entreating  them  to  in- 
terpose for  the  deliverance  of  the  Church. 

At  the  same  time,  Duke  George  of  Saxony,  Duke  Henry 
of  Brunswick,  and  the  Cardinal-Elector  Albert,  had  met  at 
Halle,  and  addressed  a  memorial  to  Charles.  "  The  detesta- 
ble doctrine  of  Luther,"  said  they,  "  is  making  extensive  pro- 
gress ;  every  day  attempts  are  made  to  seduce  ourselves,  andj 
failing  to  persuade  us,  they  seek  to  compel  us  by  exciting  our 
subjects  to  revolt.  We  implore  the  Emperor's  intervention."* 
On  the  breaking  up  of  this  conference,  Brunswick  himself 
set  out  for  Spain  to  induce  Charles  to  take  the  decisive  step. 

He  could  not  have  arrived  at  a  more  favourable  juncture  : 
the  Emperor  had  just  concluded  with  France  the  famous  peace 
of  Madrid.  He  seemed  to  have  nothing  left  to  apprehend  from 
that  quarter,  and  his  undivided  attention  was  now  directed  to 
the  affairs  of  Germany.  Francis  the  First  had  offered  to  de- 
fray half  the  expences  of  a  war  either  against  the  heretics  or 
against  the  Turks  ! 

The  Emperor  was  at  Seville  ; — ^he  was  on  the  eve  of  mar- 
riage with  a  princess  of  Portugal,  and  the  banks  of  the  Gua- 
dalquiver  resounded  with  joyous  festivity.  A  dazzling  train 
of  nobles,  and  vast  crowds  of  people  thronged  the  ancient  capi- 
tal of  the  Moors.  The  pomp  and  ceremonies  of  the  Church 
were  displayed  under  the  roofs  of  its  noble  cathedral.  A  Le- 
*  Schmidt,  Deutsche  Gesch.  viii.  p.  202. 


233 

gate  from  the  Pope  officiated ;  and  never  before,  even  under 
Arabian  rule,  had  Andalusia  witnessed  a  spectacle  of  more 
magnificence  and  solemnity. 

Just  at  that  time,  Henry  of  Brunswick  arrived  from  Ger- 
many, and  solicited  Charles  to  save  the  Church  and  the  Em- 
pire from  the  attacks  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  His  re- 
quest was  immediately  taken  into  consideration,  and  the  Em- 
peror resolved  on  vigorous  measures. 

On  the  23d  of  March,  1526,  he  addressed  letters  to  several 
of  the  princes  and  free  cities  that  still  adhered  to  Rome.  He 
also  specially  commissioned  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  to  com- 
municate to  them  that  he  had  learned  with  grief  that  the  con- 
tinued progress  of  Luther's  heresy  threatened  to  fill  Germany 
with  sacrilege,  havoc,  and  bloodshed  ;  and  at  the  same  time, 
to  express  the  great  pleasure  he  felt  in  the  fidelity  of  the  ma- 
jority of  the  States,  and  to  acquaint  them  that,  l^.ying  aside  all 
other  business,  he  was  about  to  leave  Spain  and  repair  to 
Rome,  to  concert  measures  with  the  Pope,  and  from  thence  to 
pass  into  Germany,  and  there  oppose  that  abominable  Wit- 
temberg pest;  adding,  that  it  behoved  them  to  continue  stead- 
fast in  their  faith,  and  in  the  event  of  the  Lutherans  seeking 
to  seduce  or  oblige  them  to  a  renunciation  of  it,  to  repel  their 
attempts  by  a  united  and  courageous  resistance  :  that  he  him- 
self would  shortly  be  among  them  and  support  them  with  all 
his  power.* 

When  Brunswick  returned  into  Germany,  the  Catholic 
party  joyfully  lifted  up  their  heads.  The  Dukes  of  Bruns- 
wick, Pomerania,  Albert  of  Mecklenburg,  John  of  Juliers, 
George  of  Saxony,  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria,  and  all  the  dignita- 
ries of  the  Church,  on  reading  the  menacing  letters  of  the  con- 
queror of  Francis  the  First,  thought  their  triumph  secure.  It 
was  decided  they  should  attend  the  approaching  Diet,  and 
humble  the  heretical  princes;  and  in  the  event  of  the  latter 
resisting,  quell  them  with  the  sword.  "  I  may  be  Elector  of 
Saxony  any  day  I  please,^^^  was  an  expression  ascribed  by 

♦  Archives  of  "Weimar.     (Seckend.  p.  768.) 
t  Rankc,  Deutsch  Gesch,  ii.  p.  349.  Rommel  Urkunden,  p.  22. 
20* 


234       THE  REFORMATION  AND  THE  PAPACY. 

report  to  Duke  George — words  to  which  he  afterwards  en- 
deavoured to  attach  another  meaning.  "  The  Lutheran  party 
cannot  long  hold  together,"  said  his  Chancellor  to  the  Duke, 
in  a  tone  of  exultation ;  "  let  them  mind  what  they  are  about :" 
■ — and  truly  Luther  was  on  his  guard,  though  not  in  the  sense 
their  words  conveyed.  He  attentively  observed  the  designs 
of  the  opposers  of  God's  word :  he,  like  Melancthon,  expected 
that  thousands  of  swords  would  ere  long  be  unsheathed  against 
the  Gospel.  But  he  sought  a  strength  far  above  the  strength 
of  men.  Writing  to  Frederic  Myconius,  he  observed,  "  Satan 
is  raging  :  ungodly  priests  take  counsel  together,  and  we  are 
threatened  with  war.  Exhort  the  people  to  contend  earnestly 
before  the  throne  of  the  Lord,  by  faith  and  prayer,  that  our 
adversaries,  being  overcome  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  may  be  con- 
strained to  peace.  The  most  urgent  of  our  wants — the  very 
first  thing  we  have  to  do,  is  to  fray  :  let  the  people  know  that 
they  are  at  this  hour  exposed  to  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and 
the  rage  of  the  devil :  let  them  praT/V* 

Thus  every  thing  indicated  a  decisive  conflict.  The  Re- 
formation had  on  its  side  the  prayers  t)f  Christians,  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  people,  and  an  ascendant  in  men's  minds  that  no 
power  could  stay.  The  Papacy  had  with  it  the  established 
order,  the  force  of  early  habit,  the  zeal  and  hatred  of  powerful 
princes,  and  the  authority  of  an  Emperor  whose  dominion 
extended  over  both  hemispheres,  and  who  had  just  before 
deeply  humbled  the  pride  of  Francis  the  First. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  aflairs  when  the  Diet  of  Spires 
was  opened.     Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  Switzerland. 

*  Ut  in  mediis  gladiis  et  furoribus  Satanse  posito  et  periclitanti.  (L, 
Epp.  iii.  p.  100.) 


BOOK   XI 


We  are  about  to  contemplate  the  diversities,  or,  as  they 
have  been  since  called,  variations  of  the  Reformation.  These 
diversities  are  among  its  most  essential  characters. 

Unity  in  diversity,  and  diversity  in  unity — is  a  law  of  Na- 
ture, and  also  of  the  Church. 

Truth  may  be  compared  to  the  light  of  the  Sun.  The  light 
comes  from  heaven  colourless,  and  ever  the  same;  and  yet  it 
takes  different  hues  on  earth,  varying  according  to  the  objects 
on  which  it  falls.  Thus  different  formularies  may  sometimes 
express  the  same  christian  Truth,  viewed  under  different 
aspects. 

How  dull  would  be  this  visible  creation,  if  all  its  boundless 
variety  of  shape  and  colour  were  to  give  place  to  an  unbroken 
uniformity !  And  may  we  not  add  how  melancholy  would 
be  its  aspect,  if  all  created  beings  did  but  compose  a  solitary 
and  vast  Unity ! 

The  unity  which  comes  from  Heaven  doubtless  has  its 
place, — but  the  diversity  of  human  nature  has  its  proper  place 
also.  In  religion  we  must  neither  leave  out  God  nor  man. 
Without  unity  your  religion  cannot  he  of  God, — without  di- 
versity, it  cannot  be  the  religion  of  man.  And  it  ought  to  be 
of  both.  Would  you  banish  from  creation  a  law  that  its  Di- 
vine Author  has  imposed  upon  it,  namely, — that  of  boundless 
diversity?  "Things  without  life  giving  sound,"  said  Paul, 
"  whether  pipe  or  harp,  except  they  give  a  distinction  in  the 


236  SPIRITUAL    SLAVERY. 

sounds,  how  shall  it  be  known  what  is  piped  or  harped?"* 
But,  if  in  religion  there  is  a  diversity,  the  result  of  distinction 
of  individuality,  and  which,  by  consequence,  must  subsist  even 
in  heaven, — there  is  a  diversity  which  is  the  fruit  of  man's  re- 
bellion,— and  this  last  is  indeed  a  serious  evil. 

There  are  two  opposite  tendencies  which  may  equally  mis- 
lead us.  The  one  consists  in  the  exaggeration  of  diversity^ — 
the  other,  in  extending  the  unity.  The  great  doctrines  of 
man's  salvation  are  as  a  line  of  demarcation  between  these  two 
errors.  To  require  more  than  the  reception  of  those  doctrines, 
is  to  disallow  the  diversity: — to  require  any  thing  less,  is  to 
infringe  the  unity. 

This  latter  departure  is  that  of  rash  and  unruly  minds 
looking  beyond,  or  out  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  desire  to  set  up 
systems  and  doctrines  of  men. 

The  former  appears  in  various  exclusive  sects  and  is  more 
especially  seen  in  that  of  Rome. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  Church  to  reject  Error  from  her  bosom. 
If  this  be  neglected,  Christianity  can  not  be  upheld;  but, 
pushed  to  an  extreme,  it  would  follow  that  the  Church  should 
take  proceedings  against  the  smallest  deviations,  and  intervene 
in  mere  disputes  about  words ;  faith  would  be  silenced,  and 
christian  feeling  reduced  to  slavery.  Not  such  was  the  con- 
dition of  the  Church  in  those  times  of  real  Catholicity, — the 
first  ages.  It  cast  out  the  sects  which  impugned  the  funda- 
mental truths  of  the  Gospel,  but  where  these  were  received,  it 
left  full  liberty  to  faith.  Rome  soon  departed  from  these  wise 
precedents,  and,  in  proportion  as  an  authoritative  teaching  of 
man  established  itself  within  the  Church,  there  appeared  a 
Unity  of  man's  imposing. 

A  system  of  human  appointment  being  once  devised,  rigour 
went  on  increasing  from  age  to  age.  Christian  liberty,  re- 
spected by  the  catholicity  of  the  earliest  ages,  was  first  limited, 
then  chained,  and  finally  stifled.  Conviction,  which,  by  the 
laws  of  our  nature,  as  well  as  of  God's  word,  should  be  freely 
formed  in  the  heart  and  understanding,  was  imposed  by  exter- 
*  1  Cor.  xiv.  7. 


CHRISTIAN    SLAVERY.  237 

nal  authority,  ready  framed  and  squared  by  the  masters  of 
mankind.  Thought,  will,  and  feeling,  all  those  faculties  of 
our  nature,  which,  once  subjected  to  the  Word  and  Spirit  of 
God,  should  be  left  free  in  their  working,  were  hindered  of 
their  proper  liberty,  and  compelled  to  find  vent  in  forms  that 
had  been  previously  settled.  The  mind  of  man  became  a  sort 
of  mirror  wherein  impressions  to  which  it  was  a  stranger  were 
reproduced,  but  which,  of  itself,  presented  nothing !  Doubt- 
less there  were  those  who  were  taught  of  God, — but  the  great 
majority  of  Christians  received  the  convictions  of  other  men  ; 
— a  personal  faith  was  a  thing  of  rare  occurrence :  the  Re- 
formation it  was  that  restored  this  treasure  to  the  Church. 

And  yet  there  was,  for  a  while,  a  space  within  which  the 
human  mind  was  permitted  to  move  at  large, — certain  opi- 
nions, at  least,  which  Christians  were  at  liberty  to  receive  or 
reject  at  will.  But,  as  a  besieging  army,  day  by  day,  contracts 
its  lines,  compelling  the  garrison  to  confine  their  movements 
within  the  narrow  enclosure  of  the  fortress,  and,  at  last,  oblig- 
ing it  to  surrender  at  discretion,  just  so.  the  hierarchy,  from 
age  to  age,  and  almost  from  year  to  year,  has  gone  on  restrict- 
ing the  liberty  allowed  for  a  time  to  the  human  mind,  until,  at 
last,  by  successive  encroachments,  there  remained  no  liberty 
at  all.  That  which  was  to  be  believed, — loved, — or  done, — 
was  regulated  and  decreed  in  the  courts  of  the  Roman  chan- 
cery. The  faithful  were  relieved  from  the  trouble  of  examin- 
ing, reflecting,  and  combating;  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  re- 
peat the  formularies  that  had  been  taught  them  ! 

From  that  period,  whenever,  in  the  bosom  of  Roman  Ca- 
tholicism, a  man  has  appeared  inheriting  the  Catholicity  of 
apostolic  times,  such  a  one,  feeling  his  inability  to  act  out  tho 
life  imparted  to  him,  in  the  bonds  in  which  he  is  held,  has 
been  led  to  burst  those  bonds,  and  give  to  the  astonished 
world  another  example  of  a  Christian  walking  at  liberty  in  the 
acknowledgment  of  no  law  but  the  law  of  God. 

The  Reformation,  in  restoring  liberty  to  the  Church,  must 
therefore  restore  to  it  its  original  diversity,  and  people  it  with 
families  united  by  the  great   features  of  resemblance  derived 


238  EFFECT    OF    THE    GOSPEL    ON    ZWINGLE. 

from  their  common  head,  but  varying  in  secondary  features, 
and  reminding  us  of  the  varieties  inherent  in  human  nature. 
Perhaps  it  might  have  been  desirable  that  this  diversity  should 
have  been  allowed  to  subsist  in  the  Universal  Church  with- 
out leading  to  sectarian  divisions,  and  yet  we  must  remember 
that  Sects  are  only  the  expression  of  this  diversity. 

Switzerland,  and  Germany,  which  had  till  now  developed 
themselves  independently,  came  in  contact  with  each  other  in 
the  years  we  are  about  to  retrace,  and  they  afforded  an  exam- 
ple of  that  diversity  of  which  we  have  spoken,  and  which  was 
to  be  one  of  the  characteristics  of  Protestantism,  We  shall 
have  occasion  to  behold  men  perfectly  agreeing  in  the  great 
doctrines  of  the  Faith  yet  differing  on  certain  secondary  ques- 
tions. True  it  is  that  human  passion  found  an  entrance  into 
these  discussions,  but  while  deploring  such  minglings  of  evil, 
Protestantism,  far  from  seeking  to  disguise  the  diversity,  pub- 
lishes and  proclaims  it.  Its  path  to  unity  is  indeed  long  and 
difficult,  but  the  unity  it  proposes  is  real. 

Zwingle  was  advancing  in  the  christian  life.  Whilst  the 
Gospel  had  to  Luther  brought  deliverance  from  the  deep  me- 
lancholy in  which  he  had  been  plunged  when  in  the  convent 
of  Erfurth,  and  developed  in  him  a  cheerfulness  which  often 
amounted  to  gaiety,  and  of  which,  from  that  time,  the  Re- 
former gave  such  repeated  evidence,  even  when  exposed  to  the 
greatest  dangers, — Christianity  had  had  quite  a  contrary  effect 
on  the  joyous  child  of  the  mountains  of  the  Tockenburg.  Re- 
claiming Zwingle  from  his  thoughtless  and  worldly  career,  it 
had  stampted  upon  his  character  a  seriousness  which  was  not 
natural  to  him.  This  seriousness  was  indeed  most  needed. 
We  have  seen  how,  toward  the  close  of  1522,  numerous 
enemies  appeared  to  rise  against  the  Reformation.*  From 
all  sides  reproaches  were  heaped  upon  Zwingle,  and  conten- 
tions would  at  times  take  place  even  in  the  churches. 

Leo  Juda,  who,  to  adopt  the  words  of  an  historian,  was  a 
man  of  small  stature,!  with  a  heart  full  of  love  for  the  poor, 

*  Vol.  II.  Book  8,  to  the  end, 
t  Er  war  ein  kurzer  Mann.     (Fusslin  Beytriige,  iv.  p.  44.) 


LEO    JUDA    AT    ZURICH.  230 

and  zeal  against  false  teachers,  had  arrived  in  Zurich  about 
the  end  of  1522,  to  take  the  duty  of  pastor  of  St.  Peter's 
church.  He  had  been  replaced  at  Einsidlen  by  Oswald  My- 
conius.*  His  coming  was  a  valuable  acquisition  to  Zwingle 
and  the  Reformation. 

One  day,  soon  after  his  arrival,  being  at  church,  he  heard 
an  Augustine  monk  preaching  with  great  earnestness  that  man 
was  competent  by  his  own  strength  to  satisfy  the  righteousness 
of  God.  "Reverend  father  Prior,"  exclaimed  Leo,  "  listen  to 
me  for  an  instant ;  and  you,  my  dear  fellow-citizens,  keep  your 
seats, — I  will  speak  as  becomes  a  Christian  :"  and  he  proceed- 
ed to  show  the  unscriptural  character  of  the  teaching  he  had 
just  been  listening  to.f  A  great  disturbance  ensued  in  the 
church. — Instantly  several  persons  angrily  attacked  the  "little 
priest"  from  Einsidlen.  Zwingle,  repairing  to  the  Council, 
presented  himself  before  them,  and  requested  permission  to 
give  an  account  of  his  doctrine,  in  presence  of  the  bishop's 
deputies ; — and  the  Council,  desiring  to  terminate  the  dissen- 
sions, convoked  a  conference  for  the  29th  of  January.  The 
news  spread  rapidly  throughout  Switzerland.  "  A  vagabond 
diet,"  observed  his  mortified  adversaries,  "  is  to  be  held  at  Zu- 
rich.    All  the  vagrants  from  the  high-road  will  be  there." 

Wishing  to  prepare  for  the  struggle,  Zwingle  put  forth 
sixty-seven  theses.  In  them  the  mountaineer  of  the  Tocken- 
burg  boldly  assailed  the  Pope,  in  the  face  of  all  Switzerland, 

"  They,"  said  he,  "  who  assert  that  the  Gospel  is  nothing 
until  confirmed  to  us  by  the  Church,  blaspheme  God." 

"Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  way  of  salvation  for  all  who  have 
been,  are,  or  shall  be." 

"Christians  are  all  the  brethren  of  Christ,  and  of  one  an- 
other ;  and  they  have  no  'fathers,'  upon  earth  ; — away,  there- 
fore, with  religious  orders,  sects,  and  parties." 

"  No  compulsion  should  be  employed  in  the  case  of  such  as 
do  not  acknowledge  their  error, — unless  by  their  seditious 
conduct  they  disturb  the  peace  of  others." 

*  Ut  post  abitum  Leonie,  rnonachis  aliquid  legam.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  253.) 
t  J.  J.  Hottinger,  Helw,  Kirch.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  105. 


S40  THE    CHALLENGE. 

Such  were  some  of  the  propositions  put  forth  by  Zwingle. 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  29  th  January,  more  than 
six  hundred  persons  were  collected  in  the  hall  of  the  Great 
Council,  at  Zurich.  Many  from  the  neighbouring  cantons, 
as  well  as  Zurichers,  the  learned,  the  higher  classes,  and  the 
clergy,  had  responded  to  the  call  of  the  Council.  "  "What 
will  be  the  end  of  all  this?"*  was  the  question  asked  None 
ventured  to  answer ;  but  the  breathless  attention,  deep  feeling, 
and  agitation,  which  reigned  in  the  meeting,  sufficiently  showed 
that  important  results  were  looked  for.  ^^ 

The  burgomaster  Roust,  who  had  fought  in  the  battle  of 
Marignan,  presided  at  the  conference.  The  knight  James 
Anwyl,  grand  master  of  the  bishop's  court  at  Constance,  Fa- 
berthe  vicMr-general,  and  several  doctors  of  divinity,  attended 
on  the  part  of  the  bishop.  Schaffhausen  had  deputed  Doctor 
Sebastian  Hofmeister ;  he  was  the  only  deputy  from  the 
cantons, — so  weak,  as  yet,  was  the  Reformation  in  Switzer- 
land. On  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  hall  was  deposited  a  Bi- 
ble, and  seated  before  it  was  Zwingle.  "  I  am  driven  a  ,d  be- 
set on  all  sides,"  he  had  said,  "yet  I  stand  firm,!  leaning  on 
no  strength  of  my  own,  but  on  Christ,  the  rock,  by  whose 
help  I  can  do  all  things." 

Zwingle  stood  up.  "  I  have  proclaimed,"  said  he,  "  that 
salvation  is  to  be  found  in  Christ  alone:  and  it  is  for  this  that, 
throughout  Switzerland,  I  am  charged  with  being  a  heretic, 
a  seducer,  and  rebellious  man.  Here,  then,  I  stand  in  God's 
name  !"| 

On  this,  all  eyes  were  turned  to  Faber,  who,  rising  from 
his  seat,  thus  replied  : — "  I  am  not  sent  to  dispute, — but  to  re- 
port." The  assembly  in  surprise,  began  to  smile.  "The 
Diet  of  Nuremberg,"  continued  Faber,  "has  promised  a 
Council  within  one  year:   we  must  wait  for  its  assembling." 

*  Ein  grosses  Verwunderen,  was  doch  uss  der  Sach  werden  wollte. 
(Bullinger,  Chron.  i.  p.  97.) 

t  Immotus  tamen  maneo,  non  nieis  nervis  nixus,  sed  petra  Christo, 
in  quo  omnia  possum.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  261.) 

i  Nun  wohlan  in  dem  Namen  Gottes,  hie  bin  ich.  (Bullinger. 
Chron.  p.  98.) 


ZWINGLE    AND    FABER.  241 

<'What!"  said  Zwingle,  "is  not  this  large  and  intelligent 
meeting  as  compett'nt  as  a  Council  ?"  then  turning  to  those  who 
presided,  he  added, — "Gracious  Lords;  defend  the  word  of 
God." 

A  solemn  silence  ensued  on  this  appeal.  At  last  it  was  in- 
terrupted by  the  burgomaster.  "  If  any  one  present  has  any- 
thing to  say,"  said  he,  "  let  him  say  on."  Still  all  were  silent. 
"  I  implore  all  those  who  have  accused  me, — and  I  know  that 
some  are  here  present,  "  said  Zwingle,  "  to  come  forward  and 
rebuke  me  for  the  truth's  sake."  Not  a  word!  Again  and 
again  Zwingle  repeated  his  request,  but  to  no  purpose.  Fa- 
ber,  thus  brought  to  close  quarters,  lost  sight,  for  an  instant,  of 
the  reserve  he  had  imposed  on  himself,  and  stated  that  he  had 
convicted  of  his  error  the  pastor  of  Filispach,  who  was  at  that 
time  in  durance  ;  but,  having  said  this,  he  again  relapsed  into 
silence.  It  was  all  in  vain  that  he  was  urged  to  bring  forward 
the  arguments  by  which  he  had  convinced  that  pastor  ;  he 
would  give  no  answer.  This  silence  on  the  part  of  the  Ro- 
mish doctors  mortified  the  impatience  of  the  assembly.  A 
voice  from  the  further  end  of  the  hall  was  heard  exclaiming, 
— •'  Where  have  they  got  to — those  braggarts,  whose  voices 
are  so  loud  in  our  streets.*  Come  forward:  there's  the  man 
you  want."  On  this  the  burgomaster  observed,  smiling,  "  It 
seems  that  the  sharp-edged  sword  that  succeeded  against  the 
pastor  of  Filispach  is  fast  fixed  in  its  scabbard:" — and  he 
proceeded  to  break  up  the  meeting. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  parties  being  again  assembled,  the 
Council  resolved  that  master  Ulric  Zwingle,  not  being  re- 
proved by  any  one,  was  at  liberty  to  continue  to  preach  the 
Gospel ;  and  that  the  rest  of  the  clergy  of  the  canton  should  be 
enjoined  to  advance  nothing  but  what  they  could  establish  by 

the  Scriptures. 

"  Thuiiks  be  to  God,  who  will  cause  his  word  to  prevail  in 
heaven  and  in  earth  !"  exclaimed  Zwingle.  On  this  Faber 
could  not  suppress  his  indignation.     "  The  theses  of  master 

*  i.e. — the  monks.  Wo  sind  nun  die  grossen  Hansen  ....  (Zw, 
0pp.  i.  p.  124.) 

VOL.    III.  21 


242  ZWINGLE    TEMPTED    BY    THE    POPE. 

Ulric,"  said  he,  "  are  incompatible  with  the  honour  due  to  the 
Church,  and  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  Christ, — and  I  can 
prove  it."  "  Do  so,"  retorted  Zw ingle.  But  Faber  declined, 
except  it  should  be  in  Paris,  Cologne,  or  Friburg.  "  I  ac- 
knowledge no  authority  but  that  of  the  Gospel,"  said  Zwingle : 
"Before  you  can  shake  one  word  of  that,  the  earth  itself  will 
open  before  you."*  "That's  always  the  cry,"  remarked  Fa- 
ber ;  "  the  Gospel, — nothing  but  the  Gospel !  Men  might 
lead  holy  lives  in  peace  and  charity  if  there  were  no  Gos- 
pel!"! At  these  words  the  audilois  indignantly  rose  from; 
their  seats,  and  the  meeting  finally  broke  up. 

The  Reformation  was  gaining  ground.  It  was  at  this  pe- 
riod called  to  new  conquests.  After  the  skirmish  at  Zurich, 
in  which  the  ablest  champions  of  the  Papacy  had  kept  silence, 
who  would  be  so  bold  as  to  oppose  the  new  doctrines  ?  But 
methods  of  another  kind  were  tried.  The  firmness  of  Zwingle, 
and  the  republican  freedom  of  his  bearing,  overawed  his  ene- 
mies. Accordingly,  recourse  was  had  to  suitable  methods  for 
subduing  him.  Whilst  Rome  was  pursuing  Luther  with 
anathemas,  she  laboured  to  win  the  Reformer  of  Zurich  by- 
persuasions.  Scarcely  was  the  conference  closed  over  when 
Zwingle  was  surpristd  by  a  visit  from  the  captain  of  the 
Pope's  guards — the  son  of  the  burgomaster  Roust,  accom- 
panied by  Einsius  the  legate,  who  was  the  bearer  of  a  brief 
from  the  Pontiff, — in  which  Adrian  addressed  Zwingle  as  his 
"  well  beloved  son,"  and  assured  him  of  his  special  favour. 
At  the  same  time  the  Pope  set  others  upon  urging  Zink  to  in- 
fluence Zwingle-I  "And  what,"  enquired  Oswald  Myconius, 
"does  the  Pope  authorise  you  to  offer  him?"  "Everything 
short  of  the  Pontiff's  chair,"^  answered  Zink,  earnestly." 

*  Ee  muss  das  Erdrych  brechen.     (Zw.  0pp.  i.  p.  148.) 

+  Man  moclit  denocht  friintlich,  fridlich  und  tugendlich  liiben, 
wenn  glich  kein  Evangelium  were.  (Bull.  Chron.  p.  107.  Zw.  0pp. 
i.  p.  152.) 

+  Cum  de  tua  egregia  virtute  specialiter  nobis  sit  cognitum.  (Zw. 
Epp.  I.  206.) 

§  Serio  respondit :  Omnia  certe  praeter  sedem  papalem,  (Vit.  Zwingli 
per  Osw.  Myc.) 


"  zwingle's  passion."        ,  243 

There  was  nothing,  whether  mitre,  crozier,  or  cardinal's 
hat,  which  the  Pope  would  not  have  given  to  buy  over  the 
Reformer  of  Zurich.  But  Rome  altogether  mistook  her  man 
— and  vain  were  all  her  advances.  In  Zwingle,  the  Church 
of  Rome  had  a  foe  even  more  determined  than  Luther.  He 
had  less  regard  for  the  long  established  notions  and  the  cere- 
monirs  of  former  ages — it  was  enough  to  draw  down  his  hos- 
tility that  a  custom,  innocent  in  itself  had  been  connected  with 
some  existing  abuses.  In  his  judgment  the  word  of  God  alone 
was  to  be  exalted. 

But  if  Rome  had  so  little  understanding  of  the  events  then 
in  progress  in  Christendom  she  wanted  not  for  counsellors  to 
give  her  the  needful  information. 

Faber,  irritated  at  the  Pope's  thus  humbling  himself  before 
his  adversary — lost  no  time  in  advising  him.  A  courtier, 
dressed  in  smiles,  with  honied  words  upon  his  tongue,  those 
who  listened  to  him  might  have  thought  him  friendly  toward 
all,  and  even  to  those  whom  he  charged  with  heresy, — but 
his  hatred  was  mortal.  Luther,  playing  on  his  name  (Faber,) 
was  accustomed  to  say — "  The  vicar  of  Constance  is  a  black- 
smith ...  .of  lies.  Let  him  take  up  arms  like  a  man,  and 
see  how  Christ  defends  us."* 

These  words  were  no  uncalled-for  bravado — for  all  the 
while  that  the  Pope  in  his  communications  with  Zwingle  was 
complimenting  him  on  his  distinguished  virtues,  and  the  spe- 
cial confidence  he  reposed  in  him,  the  Reformer's  enemies 
were  multiplying  throughout  Switzerland.  The  veteran  sol- 
diers, the  higher  families,  and  the  herdsmen  of  the  mountains, 
were  combined  in  aversion  to  a  doctrine  which  ran  counter  to 
all  their  inclinations.  At  Lucerne,  public  notice  was  given 
of  the  performance  of  ZwingUJs  passion;  and  the  people 
dragged  about  an  effigy  of  the  Reformer,  shouting  that  they 
were  going  to  put  the  heretic  to  death ;  and  laying  violent 
hands  on  some  Zurichers  who  were  then  at  Lucerne,  com- 
pelled them  to  be  spectators  of  this  mock  execution.  "  They 
shall  not  disturb  my  peace,"  observed  Zwingle;  "Christ  will 

*  Prodeant  volo,  palamque  arma  capiant  ....  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  292.) 


244         ^    TRACT  AGAINST  IMAGES. 

never  fail  those  who  are  his."  Even  in  the  Diet  threats 
against  him  were  heard.*  "  Beloved  Confederates,"  said  the 
Councillor  of  Mullinen.  addressing  the  cantons,  "  make  a  stand 
against  Lutheranisin  while  there  is  yet  time.  At  Zurich  no 
man  is  master  in  his  own  house." 

This  agitation  in  the  enemies'  ranks  proclaimed,  more  loudly 
than  any  thing  else  could  have  done,  what  was  passing  in 
Zurich.  In  truth  victory  was  already  bearing  fruits,  the  vic- 
torious party  were  gradually  taking  possession  of  the  country; 
and  every  day  the  Gospel  made  some  new  progress.  Twenty- 
four  canons,  and  a  considerable  number  of  the  chaplains  came 
of  their  own  accord  to  petition  the  Council  for  a  reform  of 
their  statutes.  It  was  decided  to  replace  those  sluggish  priests 
by  men  of  learning  and  piety,  whose  duty  it  should  be  to  in- 
struct the  youth  of  Zurich,  and  to  establish,  instead  of  their 
vespers  and  Latin  masses,  a  daily  exposition  of  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible,  from  the  Hebrew,  and  Greek  texts,  first  for  the 
learned,  and  then  for  the  people. 

Unhappily  there  are  found  in  every  army  ungovernable 
spirits,  who  leave  their  ranks,  and  make  onset  too  early,  on 
points  which  it  would  be  better  for  a  while  to  leave  unattacked. 
Louis  Ketzer,  a  young  priest,  having  put  forth  a  tract  in  Ger- 
man, entitled  the  Judgment  of  God  against  Images,  a  great 
sensation  was  produced,  and  a  portion  of  the  people  could  think 
of  nothing  else.  It  is  ever  to  the  injury  of  essentials  that  the 
mind  of  man  is  pre-occupied  with  secondary  matters.  Outside 
one  of  the  city  gates,  at  a  place  called  Stadelhofen,  was  sta- 
tioned a  crucifix  elaborately  carved,  and  richly  ornamented. 
The  more  ardent  of  the  Reformed,  provoked  at  the  super- 
stitious venerati.on  still  paid  this  image,  could  not  suppress 
their  indignation  whenever  they  had  occasion  to  pass  that 
Avay.  A  citizen,  by  name  Claudius  Hottinger,  "a  man  of 
family,"  says  BuUinger,  "and  well  acquainted  with  the  Scrip- 
tures," meeting  the  miller  of  Stadelhofen,  to  whom  the  crucifix 
belonged,  enquired  when  he  meant  to  take  away  his  idols. 
*' No  one  requires  you  to  worship  them,"  was  the  miller's 
*  Christum  suis  nunquam  defecturum.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  278.) 


"wooden  idols."  245 

reply.  "  But  do  you  not  know,"  retorted  Hottinger,  "  that 
God's  word  forbids  us  to  have  graven  Images  ?"  "  Very 
well,"  replied  the  miller,  "  If  you  are  empowered  to  remove 
them,  I  leave  you  to  do  so."  Hottinger  thought  himself 
authorized  to  act,  and  he  was  soon  after  seen  to  leave  the  city, 
accompanied  by  a  number  of  the  citizens.  On  arriving  at  the 
crucifix,  they  deliberately  dug  round  the  image  until,  yielding 
to  their  effoits,  it  came  down  with  a  loud  crash  to  the  earth. 

This  daring  action  spread  alarm  far  and  wide.  One  might 
have  thought  religion  itself  had  been  overturned  with  the 
crucifix  of  Stadelhofen.  ''  They  are  sacrilegious  disturbers, 
— they  are  worthy  of  death,"  exclaimed  the  partisans  of  Rome. 
The  Council  caused  the  iconoclasts  to  be  arrested. 

*'  No,"  exclaimed  Zwingle,  speaking  from  his  pulpit, 
"  Hottinger  and  his  friends  have  not  sinned  against  God,  nor 
are  they  deserving  of  death* — but  they  may  be  justly  punished 
for  having  resorted  to  violence  without  the  sanction  of  the 
magistrates."! 

Meanwhile  acts  of  a  similar  kind  were  continually  recur- 
ring. A  vicar  of  St.  Peter's  one  day  observing  before  the 
porch  of  that  church  a  number  of  poor  persons  ill  clad  and 
famished,  remarked  to  one  of  his  colleagues,  as  he  glanced  at 
the  images  of  the  saints  decked  in  costly  attire — "  I  should 
like  to  strip  those  wooden  idols  and  clothe  those  poor  mem- 
bers of  Jesus  Christ."  A  few  days  after,  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  saints  and  their  fine  trappings  were  missing. 
The  Council  sent  the  vicar  to  prison,  although  he  protested 
that  he  had  no  hand  in  removing  them.  "  Is  it  these  blocks 
of  wood,"  exclaimed  the  people,  "  that  Jesus  enjoined  us  to 
clothe?  Is  it  of  such  images  as  these  that  he  will  say  to  the 
righteous — "  /  was  naked,  and  ye  clothed  Me .'"'  .  .  .  Thus 
the  Reformation,  when  resisted,  rose  to  a  greater  height ;  and 

*  The  same  principles  are  seen  in  the  speeches  of  M.  M.  de  Broglio 
and  Royer-CoUard,  on  occasion  of  the  celebrated  debates  on  the  law 
of  Sacrilege. 

t  Dorum  habend  ir  unser  Herren  kein  racht  zuinen,  sy  zu  toden. 
(Bull.  Chr.  p.  127.) 


246  THE    UNTERWALDER3. 

the  more  it  was  compressed,  with  the  more  force  did  it  break 
forth  and  threaten  to  carry  all  before  it. 

These  excesses  conduced  to  some  beneficial  results.  Ano- 
ther struggle  was  needed  to  issue  in  further  progress — for  in 
spiritual  things  as  in  the  affairs  of  earthly  kingdoms,  there  can 
be  no  conquest  without  a  struggle — and  since  the  adherents 
of  Rome  were  inert,  events  were  so  ordered  that  the  conflict 
was  begun  by  the  irregular  soldiery  of  the  Reformation.  In 
fact,  the  magistrates  were  perplexed  and  undecided:  they  felt 
the  need  of  more  light  in  the  matter ;  and  for  this  end  they 
resolved  on  appointing  a  second  public  meeting,  to  discuss  in 
German,  and  on  grounds  of  Scripture,  the  question  as  to 
images. 

The  bishops  of  Coira,  Constance,  and  Bale,  the  university 
of  the  latter  city,  and  the  twelve  cantons,  were  accordingly 
requested  to  send  deputies  to  Zurich.  But  the  bishops 
declined  compliance,  recollecting  the  little  credit  their  depu- 
ties had  brought  them  on  occasion  of  the  first  meeting,  and 
having  no  wish  for  a  repetition  of  so  humiliating  a  scene. 
Let  the  Gospel  party  discuss  if  they  will — but  let  it  be  among 
themselves.  On  the  former  occasion,  silence  had  been  their 
policy — on  this  they  will  not  even  add  importance  to  the 
meeting  by  their  presence.  Rome  thought  perhaps  that  the 
combat  would  pass  over  for  want  of  combatants.  The  bishops 
were  not  alone  in  refusing  to  attend.  The  men  of  Unterwald 
returned  for  answer  that  they  had  no  philosophers  among 
them — but  kind  and  pious  priests  alone — who  would  perse- 
vere in  explaining  the  Gospel  as  their  fathers  had  done;  that 
they  accordingly  must  decline  sending  a  deputy  to  Zwingle 
and  the  like  of  him ;  but  that  only  let  him  fall  into  their 
hands,  and  they  would  handle  him  after  a  fashion  to  cure  him 
of  his  inclination  for  such  irregularities.  The  only  cantons 
that  sent  representatives  were  Schaffhausen*  and  Saint  Gall. 

On  Monday,  the  26th  of  October,  more  than  nine  hundred 
persons — among  whom  were   the   members   of  the   Grand 

*  So  wollten  wir  Ihm  den  Lohn  geben,  dass  er's  nimmer  mehr 
thate.    (Simmler  Samml.  M.S.C.  ix.) 


PUBLIC    MEETING.  247 

Council — >and  no  less  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  priests, 
were  assembled  after  sermon  in  the  large  room  of  the  Town 
Hall.  Zvvingle  and  Leo  Juda  were  seated  at  a  table  on 
which  lay  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  in  the  originals. 
Zwingle  spoke  first,  and  soon  disposing  of  the  authority  of  the 
hierarchy  and  its  councils,  he  laid  down  the  rights  of  every 
Chiistian  church,  and  claimed  the  liberty  of  the  first  ages, 
when  the  Church  had  as  yet  no  council  either  oecumenical  or 
provincial.  "The  Universal  Church,"  said  he,  "is  diffused 
throughout  the  world,  wherever  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  has 
spread :  in  India  as  well  as  in  Zurich  .  .  .  And  as  to  parti- 
cular churches,  we  have  them  at  Berne,  at  Schaffhausen,  and 
even  here.  But  the  Popes,  with  their  cardinals  and  councils, 
are  neither  the  Universal  Church  nor  a  particular  Church.* 
This  assembly  which  hears  me,"  exclaimed  he,  with  energy, 
"is  the  church  of  Zurich — it  desires  to  hear  the  word  of  God, 
and  can  rightfully  decree  whatever  it  shall  see  to  be  conform- 
able to  the  Scriptures." 

Here  we  see  Zwingle  relying  on  the  Church — ^but  on  the 
true  Church, — not  on  the  clergy,  but  on  the  assembly  of 
believers.  He  applied  to  particular  churches  all  those  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  that  speak  of  the  Church  Catholic.  He 
could  not  allow  that  a  church  that  listened  with  docility  to 
God's  word  could  fall  into  error.  The  Church  was,  in  his 
judgment,  represented  both  politically  and  ecclesiastically  by 
the  Great  Council. f  He  began  by  explaining  each  subject 
from  the  pulpit;  and  when  the  minds  of  his  hearers  were 
convinced,  he  proposed  the  different  questions  to  the  Council, 
who,  in  conformity  with  the  ministers  of  the  Church,  recorded 
such  decisions  as  they  called  for.J 

*  Der  Pabste,  Cardinale  und  Bischofle  Concilia  sind  nicht  die 
christliche  Kirche.     (Fiissl   Beytr.  III.  p.  20.) 

'  t  Diacosion  Senatus  suinma  est  potestas  Ecclesise  vice.  (Zw.  0pp. 
III.  p.  339.) 

J  Ante  omnia  multitudinem  de  quaestione  probe  docere  ita  factum 
est,  ut  quidquid  diacosii  (the  grand  council,)  cum  verbi  ministris 
ordinarent,  jaradudutn  in  animis  fidelium  ordinatum  esset.  (Zw.  0pp. 
III.  p.  339.) 


E48     Hoffman's  defence  of  the  pope. 

In  the  absence  of  the  bishops'  deputies,  Conrad  HofTman, 
an  aged  canon,  undertook  to  defend  the  Pope.  He  maintained 
that  the  Church,  the  flock,  the  "third  estate,"  was  not  author- 
ized to  discuss  such  matters.  "  I  resided,"  said  he,  "  for  no 
less  than  twelve  years  at  Heidelberg  in  the  house  of  a  man  of 
extensive  learning,  named  Doctor  Joss — a  kind  and  pious 
man — with  whom  I  boarded  and  lived  quietly  for  a  long 
time,  but  then  he  always  said  that  it  was  not  proper  to  make 
such  matters  a  subject  of  discussion;  you  see,  therefore !"  .  . 
On  this  every  one  began  to  laugh.  "  Thus,"  continued  HoflT- 
man,  "let  us  wait  for  a  Council — at  present  I  shall  decline 
taking  part  in  any  discussion  whatever,  but  shall  act  accord- 
ing to  the  bishop's  orders,  even  though  he  himself  were  a 
knave!" 

"  Wait  for  a  Council !"  interrupted  Zwingle,  "  and  who, 
think  you,  will  attend  a  Council? — the  Pope  and  some  sleepy 
and  ill-taught  bishops,  who  will  do  nothing  but  what  pleases 
them.  No,  that  is  not  the  Church :  Hong  and  Kiissnacht 
(two  villages  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Zurich.)  are  more  of  a 
Church  than  all  the  bishops  and  popes  put  together." 

Thus  did  Zwingle  assert  the  rights  of  Christians  in  general, 
whom  Rome  had  stript  of  their  inheritance.  The  assembly 
he  addressed  was  in  his  view  not  so  much  the  church  of 
Zurich  as  its  earliest  representative.  Here  we  see  the  begin- 
nings of  the  Presbyterian  system.  Zwingle  was  engaged  in 
delivering  Zurich  from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  bishops  of  Con- 
stance— he  was  likewise  detaching  it  from  the  hierarchy  of 
Rome;  and  on  this  thought  of  the  Jlock  and  the  assembly  of 
believers,  he  was  laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  church 
order,  to  which  other  countries  would  afterwards  adhere. 

The  discussion  was  continued.  Several  priests  having  de- 
fended the  use  of  images,  without  deriving  their  arguments 
from  Scripture,  Zwingle,  and  the  rest  of  the  Reformers,  refuted 
them  by  passages  from  the  Bible.  "  If,"  said  one  of  the  pre- 
sidents, "no  one  defends  the  images  by  the  Scriptures,  we 
shall  call  upon  some  of  their  advocates  by  name."  No  one 
coming  forward,  the  curate  of  Wadischwyl  was  called.     "  He 


THE    MASS.  249 

i$  asleep,"  exclaimed  one  of  the  crowd.  The  curate  of  Hor- 
gen  was  next  called.  "  He  has  sent  me  in  his  stead,"  said  his 
vicar,  "but  I  cannot  answer  for  him."  It  was  plain  that  the 
power  of  the  word  of  God  was  felt  in  the  assembly.  The 
partisans  of  the  Reformation  were  buoyant  with  liberty  and 
joy ;  their  adversaries,  on  the  contrary,  were  silent,  uneasy, 
and  depressed.  The  curates  of  Laufen,  Glattfelden,  and  Wet- 
zikon,  the  rector  and  curate  of  Pfaffikon,  the  dean  of  Elgg, 
the  curate  of  Baretschwyl,  the  Dominicans  and  Cordeliers, 
known  for  their  preaching  in  defence  of  image  worship  and 
the  saints,  were  one  after  another  invited  to  stand  forward. 
They  all  made  answer  that  they  had  nothing  to  say  in  their 
defence,  and  that,  in  future,  they  would  apply  themselves  to 
the  study  of  the  truth.  "  Until  to-day,"  said  one,  "  I  have  put 
my  faith  in  the  ancient  doctors,  but  now  I  will  transfer  my 
faith  to  the  new." — "  It  is  not  us^^  interrupted  Zwingle,  "  that 
you  should  believe.  It  is  GocVs  word.  It  is  only  the  Scrip- 
tures of  God  that  never  can  mislead  us."  The  sitting  had 
been  protracted, — night  was  closing  in.  The  president,  Hof- 
meister  of  Schaff  hausen,  rose  and  said  :  Blessed  be  God  the 
Almighty  and  Eternal,  who,  in  all  things,  giveth  us  the  vic- 
tory,"— and  he  ended  by  exhorting  the  Town-Council  of  Zu- 
rich to  abolish  the  worship  of  images. 

On  Tuesday,  the  assembly  again  met,  Vadian  being  presi- 
dent, to  discuss  the  doctrine  of  the  Mass.  "  My  brethren  in 
Christ,"  said  Zwingle,  "far  from  us  be  the  thought  that  there 
is  any  thing  unreal  in  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ.*  Our 
only  aim  is  to  prove  that  the  Mass  is  not  a  sacrifice  that  can 
be  offered  to  God  by  one  man  for  his  fellow,  unless  indeed  ar.y 
will  be  bold  enough  to  say  that  a  man  can  tat  and  diink  for 
his  friend." 

Vadian  having  twice  inquired  if  any  of  those  present  had 
any  thing  to  say  in  defence  of  the  doctrine  impugned,  and  no 
one  coming  forward,  the  canons  of  Zurich,  the  chaplains,  and 
several  ecclesiastics  declared  themselves  of  Zwingle's  opinion. 

*  Dass  einigerly  Betrug  oder  Falsch  syg  in  dem  reinen  Blut  und 
Flebch  Christi.    (Zw.  0pp.  i.  p.  498.) 


250  SCHMIDT    OF    KUSSNACHT. 

But  scarcely  had  the  Reformers  overcome  the  partisans  of 
the  ancient  doctrines,  when  they  were  called  to  contend  against 
the  impatient  spirits  of  men  clamorously  demanding  abrupt 
and  violent  changes,  instead  of  prudent  and  gradual  reforma- 
tion. The  unfortunate  Conrad  Grebel  rose,  and  said :  "  It  is 
not  sufficient  that  we  should  talk  about  the  Mass;  it  is  our 
duty  to  do  away  with  the  abuses  of  it." — "  The  Council,"  an- 
swered Zwingle,  "  will  put  forth  an  edict  on  the  subject."  On 
this,  Simon  Stumpf  exclaimed,  "  The  Spirit  of  God  has  al- 
ready decided, — why  then  refer  the  matter  to  the  Council's 
decision  ?"* 

The  commandant  Schmidt,  of  Kussnacht,  rose  gravely,  and, 
in  a  speech  marked  by  much  wisdom,  said, — "  Let  us  teach 
Christians  to  receive  Christ  into  their  hearts.f  Until  this 
hour  you  have  all  been  led  away  after  idols.  The  dwellers 
in  the  plain  have  made  pilgrimages  to  the  hills, — those  of  the 
hill  country  have  gone  on  pilgrimage  to  the  plain ;  the  French 
have  made  journeys  into  Germanj^j  and  the  Germans  into 
France.  You  now  know  whither  you  ought  to  go.  God 
has  lodged  all  things  in  Christ.  Worthy  Zurichers,  go  to 
the  true  source,  and  let  Jesus  Christ  re-enter  your  territory, 
and  resume  his  ancient  authority." 

This  speech  made  a  deep  impression,  and  no  one  standing 
up  to  oppose  it,  Zwingle  rose  with  emotion,  and  spoke  as  fol- 
lows : — '•  My  gracious  lords,  God  is  with  us, — -He  will  defend 
His  own  cause.  Now  then,  in  the  name  of  our  God,  let  us 
go  forward."  Here  Zwingle's  feelings  overcame  him  ;--he 
wept,  and  many  of  those  near  him  also  shed  tears. 

Thus  ended  the  conference.  The  president  rose ; — the 
burgomaster  thanked  them,  and  the  veteran,  turning  to  the 
Council,  said  in  a  grave  tone,  with  that  voice  that  had  been  so 
often  heard  in  the  field  of  battle, — "  Now  then,  let  us  take  in 
hand  the  sword  of  the  Word  ....  and  may  God  prosper 
his  own  work  !" 

*  Der  Geist  Gottes  urtheilet.     (Zw.  0pp.  i.  p.  529.) 
t  Wie  sy   Christum  in  iren  Herzen   sollind   bilden  und   machen. 
(Ibid.  p.  534.) 


RESULTS    OF    THE    CONFERENCE.  25l 

This  dispute,  which  took  place  in  the  month  of  October. 
1523,  was  decisive  in  its  consequences.  The  greater  number 
of  the  priests,  w^ho  were  present  at  it,  returned  full  of  zeal  to 
their  stations  in  different  parts  of  the  canton  ;•  and  the  effect  of 
those  memorable  days  was  felt  in  every  corner  of  Switzerland. 
The  church  of  Zurich,  which,  in  its  connexion  with  the  see 
of  Constance,  had  always  maintained  a  certain  measure  of  in- 
dependence was  now  completely  emancipated.  Instead  of  rest- 
ing, through  the  bishop,  on  the  Pope,  it  rested  henceforth, 
through  the  people,  on  the  Word  of  God.  Zuiich  had  re- 
covered the  rights  of  which  Rome  had  depiived  her.  The 
city  and  its  rural  territory  vied  with  each  other  in  zeal  for  the 
work  of  the  Reformation,  and  the  Great  Council  merely  obeyed 
the  impulse  of  the  people  at  large.  On  every  important  occa- 
sion, the  city  and  the  villages  signified  the  result  of  their  sepa- 
rate deliberations.  Luther  had  restored  the  Bible  to  the  Chris- 
tian community, — Zwingle  went  further — he  restored  their 
rights.  This  is  a  characteristic  feature  of  the  Reformation  in 
Switzerland.  The  maintenance  of  sound  doctrine  was  en- 
trusted, under  God,  to  the  people ;  and  recent  events  have 
shown  that  the  people  can  discharge  that  trust  better  than 
priests  or  pontiffs. 

Zwingle  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  elated  by  victory;  on 
the  contrary,  the  Reformation,  under  his  guidance,  was  car- 
ried on  with  much  moderation.  "  God  knows  my  heart," 
said  he,  when  the  Council  demanded  his  opinion,  "  He  knows 
that  I  am  inclined  to  build  up,  and  not  to  cast  down.  There 
are  timid  spirits  whom  it  is  needful  to  treat  tenderly ;  let  the 
mass,  therefore,  for  some  time  longer,  be  read  on  Sundays  in 
the  churches,  and  let  those  who  celebrate  it  be  carefully  pro- 
tected from  insult."* 

The  Council  issued  a  decree  to  this  effect,  Hottinger  and 
Hochrutiner,  one  of  his  friends,  v/ere  banished  from  the  can- 
ton for  two  years,  and  forbidden  to  return  without  an  express 
permission. 

*  Ohne  dass  jemanJ  sich  untcrstehe  die  Messpriester  zu  beschimpfen. 
(Wirtz    H.  K.  G.  V.  p.  208.) 


252  OSWALD    MYCONIUS    AT    ZURICH. 

The  Reformation  at  Zurich  proceeded  thus  in  a  steady  and 
Christian  course.  Raising  the  city  day  by  daj'^  to  a  higher 
pitch  of  moral  elevation,  it  cast  a  glory  round  her  in  the  eyes 
of  all  who  loved  the  word  of  God.  Throughout  Switzerland, 
therefore,  those  who  welcomed  the  day-spring  which  had  vis- 
ited the  Church,  felt  themselves  powerfully  attracted  to  Zurich. 
Oswald  Myconius,  after  his  expulsion  from  Lucerne,  had  spent 
six  months  in  the  valley  of  Einsidlen,  when,  returning  one  day, 
wearied  and  overpowered  by  the  heat  of  the  weather,  from  a 
journey  to  Glaris,  he  was  met  on  the  road  by  his  young  son, 
Felix,*  who  had  run  out  to  bring  him  tidings  of  his  having 
been  invited  to  Zurich,  to  take  charge  of  one  of  the  schools 
there.  Oswald  could  hardly  credit  the  happy  intelligence, 
and  hesitated  for  a  while  between  hope  and  fear.f  "  I  am 
thine,"  was  the  reply  which,  at  length,  he  addressed  to  Zwin- 
gle.  Geroldsek  dismissed  him  with  regret,  for  gloomy  thoughts 
had  taken  possession  of  his  mind.  "Ah  !"  said  he,  "all  who 
conf^  ss  Christ  are  flocking  to  Zurich :  I  fear  that  one  day  we 
shall  all  perish  there  together."|  A  melancholy  foreboding, 
which  was  but  too  fully  realized  when  Geroldsek,  and  so 
many  other  friends  of  the  Gospel  lost  their  lives  on  the  plain 
of  Cappel. 

At  Zurich,  Myconius  had  at  last  found  a  secure  retreat. 
His  predecessor,  nicknamed  at  Paris,  on  account  of  his  stature, 
"the  tall  devil,"  had  neglected  his  duty.  Oswald  devoted  his 
whole  heart  and  his  whole  strength  to  the  fulfilment  of  his. 
He  explained  the  Greek  and  Latin  classics;  he  taught  rhetor- 
ic and  logic  ;  and  the  youth  of  the  city  listened  to  him  with 
delight.^  Myconius  was  to  become,  to  the  rising  generation, 
all  that  Zwingle  was  already  to  those  of  maturer  years. 

At  first  Myconius  felt  some  alarm  at  the  number  of  full- 
grown  scholars  committed  to    his  care;  but  by  degrees  he 

*  Inesperato  nuntio  excepit  me  filius  redeuntem  ex  Glareana.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p.  322  ) 

t  Inter  spem  ac  metum.     (Ibid.) 

t  Ac  deinde  omnes  simul  perearaus.     (Ibid.  p.  323.) 

§  Fuventus  ilium  lubens  audit.     (Ibid.  p.  264.) 


THOMAS    PLATER.  253 

gathered  courage,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  distinguished 
among  his  pupils  a  young  man  of  four-and-twenty,  whose  in- 
telligent looks  gave  sufficient  indication  of  his  love  of  study. 
This  young  man,  whose  name  was  Thomas  Plater,  was  a  na- 
tive of  the  Valais.  In  that  beautiful  valley,  through  which 
the  torrent  of  the  Viege  rolls  its  tumultuous  waters,  after  es- 
caping from  the  sea  of  glaciers  and  snow  that  encircles  Mount 
Rosa, — seated  between  St.  Nicholas  and  Standen,  upon  the 
hill  that  rises  on  the  right  of  the  river,  is  still  to  be  seen  the 
village  of  Grachen.  This  was  Plater's  birth-place.  From 
under  the  shadow  of  those  colossal  Alps  emerged  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  of  all  the  characters  that  figured  in  the  great 
drama  of  the  sixteenth  century.  At  the  age  of  nine  he  had 
been  consigned  to  the  care  of  a  curate,  a  kinsman  of  his  own, 
— by  whom  the  little  rustic  was  often  so  severely  beaten,  that 
his  cries,  he  tells  us  himself,  were  like  those  of  a  kid  under 
the  hands  of  the  butcher.  One  of  his  cousins  took  him  along 
with  him  to  visit  the  schools  of  Germany.  But  removing  in 
this  way  from  school  to  school,  when  he  had  reached  the  age 
of  twenty,  he  scarcely  knew  how  to  read!*  On  his  arrival 
at  Zurich,  he  made  it  his  fixed  determination  that  he  would 
be  ignorant  no  longer,  took  his  post  at  a  desk  in  one  corner  of 
the  school  over  which  Myconius  presided,  and  said  to  him- 
self, "  Here  thou  shalt  learn,  or  here  thou  shall  die."  The 
light  of  the  Gospel  quickly  found  its  way  to  his  heart.  One 
morning,  when  it  was  very  cold,  and  fuel  was  wanting  to 
heat  the  school-room  stove,  which  it  was  his  ofirce  to  tend,  he 
said  to  himself,  "  Why  need  I  be  at  a  loss  for  wood,  when 
there  are  so  many  idols  in  the  church?"  The  church  was 
then  empty,  though  Zwingle  was  expected  to  preach,  and  the 
bells  were  already  ringing  to  summon  the  congregation. 
Plater  entered  with  a  noiseless  step,  grappled  an  image  of 
Saint  John,  which  stood  over  one  of  the  altars,  carried  it  off, 
and  thrust  it  into  the  stove,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  "  Down  with 
thee, — for  in  thou  must  go."  Certainly  neither  Myconius  nor 
Zwingle  would  have  applauded  such  an  act. 
♦  See  his  Autobiography. 
VOL.  III.  22 


254  THE    SWISS    AROUSED. 

It  was  by  other  and  better  means  that  unbelief  and  super- 
stition were  to  be  driven  from  the  field.  Zwingle  and  his 
colleagues  had  stretched  out  the  hand  of  fellowship  to  Myco- 
nius ;  and  the  latter  now  expounded  the  New  Testament  in 
the  Church  of  the  Virgin,"to  a  numerous  and  eager  auditory.* 
Another  public  disputation,  held  on  the  13th  and  14th  Janua- 
ry, 1524,  terminated  in  renewed  discomfiture  to  the  cause  of 
Rome ;  and  the  appeal  of  the  canon  Koch,  who  exclaimed, 
"  Popes,  cardinals,  bishops,  councils, — these  are  the  church 
for  me!"  awakened  no  sympathetic  response. 

Everything  was  moving  forward  at  Zurich ;  men's  minds 
were  becoming  more  enlightened, — their  hearts  more  stedfast. 
The  Reformation  was  gaining  strength.  Zurich  was  a  for- 
tress in  which  the  new  doctrine  had  entrenched  itself,  and 
from  within  whose  enclosure  it  was  ready  to  pour  itself 
abroad  over  the  whole  confederation. 

The  enemies  were  aware  of  this.  They  felt  that  they  must 
no  longer  delay  to  strike  a  vigorous  blow.  They  had  re- 
mained quiet  long  enough.  The  strong  men  of  Switzerland, 
her  iron-sheathed  warriors, — were  up  at  last,  and  stirring; 
and  who  could  doubt,  when  they  were  once  aroused,  that  the 
struggle  must  end  in  blood  ? 

The  Diet  was  assembled  at  Lucerne.  The  priests  made  a 
strenuous  effort  to  engage  that  great  council  of  the  nation  in 
their  favour.  Friburg  and  the  Forest  Cantons  proved  them- 
selves their  docile  instruments.  Berne,  Basle,  Soleure,Glaris, 
and  Appenzel,  hung  doubtfully  in  the  balance.  SchafThausen 
was  almost  decided  for  the  Gospel ;  but  Zurich  alone  assumed 
a  determined  attitude  as  its  defender.  The  partisans  of  Rome 
urged  the  assembly  to  yield  to  their  pretensions  and  adopt  their 
prejudices.  "  Let  an  edict  be  issued,"  said  they,  "enjoining  all 
persons  to  refrain  from  inculcating  or  repeating  any  new  or  Lu- 
theran doctrine,  either  secretly  or  in  public ;  and  from  talking 
or  disputing  on  such  matters  in  taverns,  or  over  their  wine."t 

♦  Weise  Fusslin  Beyter.  iv.  p.  6G. 

t  Es  soil  uieman  in  den  Wirtzhuseren  oder  sunst  hinter  dem  Wyn 
von  Lutherischen  oder  newen  Sachen  uzid  reden.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  144.) 


HOTTINGER  ARRESTED.  255 

Such  was  the  new  ecclesiastical  law  which  it  was  attempted 
to  establish  throughout  the  confederation. 

Nineteen  articles  to  this  effect  were  drawn  up  in  due  form, 
— ratified,  on  the  26th  January,  1523,  by  all  the  states — 
Zurich  excepted,  and  transmitted  to  all  the  bailiffs,  with  in- 
junctions that  they  should  be  strictly  enforced, — "  which 
caused,"  says  BuUinger,  "  great  joy  among  the  priests,  and 
great  grief  among  the  faithful."  A  persecution,  regularly 
organized  by  the  supreme  authority  of  the  confederation,  was 
thus  set  on  foot. 

One  of  the  first  who  received  the  mandate  of  the  Diet  was 
Henry  Flackenstein  of  Lucerne,  the  bailiff  of  Baden.  It 
was  to  his  district  that  Hottinger  had  retired  when  banished 
from  Zurich,  after  having  overthrown  the  crucifix  at  Stadel- 
hofen;  and  he  had  here  given  free  utterance  to  his  sentiments. 
One  day,  when  he  was  dining  at  the  Angel  Tavern,  at  Zur- 
zach,  he  had  said  that  the  priests  expounded  Holy  Scriptures 
amiss,  and  that  trust  ought  to  be  reposed  in  none  but  God 
alone.*  The  host,  who  was  frequently  coming  into  the  room 
to  bring  bread  or  wine,  lent  an  attentive  ear  to  what  seemed 
to  him  very  strange  discourse.  On  another  occasion,  when 
Hottinger  was  paying  a  visit  to  one  of  his  friends — John 
Schutz  of  Schneyssingen, — "  Tell  me,"  said  Schutz,  after  they 
had  finished  their  repast,  "  what  is  this  new  religion  that  the 
priests  of  Zurich  are  preaching?" — ^" They  preach,"  replied 
Hottinger,  "that  Christ  has  offered  himself  up  onee  only  for 
all  believers,  and  by  that  one  sacrifice  has  purified  them  and 
redeemed  them  from  all  iniquity ;  and  they  prove  by  Holy 
Scripture  that  the  Mass  is  a  mere  delusion." 

Hottinger  had  afterwards  (in  February,  1523,)  quitted 
Switzerland,  and  repaired  on  some  occasion  of  business,  to 
Waldshut,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine.  In  the  meanwhile, 
measures  had  been  taken  to  secure  his  person ;  and  when  the 
poor  Zuricher,  suspecting  no  danger,  recrossed  the  Rhine 
about  the  end  of  February,  he  had  no  sooner  reached  Co- 

*  Wie  wir  unser  pitt  Hoffnung  und  Trost  allein  uf  Gott,  (Bull. 
Chr.  p.  146.) 


256  HIS    MARTYRDOM. 

blentz,  a  village  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  than  he  was  ar- 
rested. He  was  conveyed  to  Klingenau,  and  as  he  there 
fearlessly  confessed  his  belief,  Flackenstein  said,  in  an  angry 
tone,  "  I  will  take  you  to  a  place  where  you  shall  meet  with 
those  who  will  give  you  a  fitting  answer."  Accordingly  the 
bailiff  dragged  his  prisoner  first  before  the  magistrates  of 
Klingenau,  next  before  the  superior  tribunal  of  Baden,  and 
ultimately,  since  he  could  not  elsewhere  obtain  a  sentence  of 
condemnation  against  him,  before  the  Diet  asssembled  at  Lu- 
cerne, He  was  resolved  that  in  one  quarter  or  another  he 
would  find  judges  to  pronounce  him  guilty. 

The  Diet  was  prompt  in  its  proceedings,  and  condemned 
Hottinger  to  lose  his  head.  When  this  sentence  was  com- 
municated to  him,  he  gave  glory  to  Jesus  Christ.  "Enough, 
enough,"  cried  Jacob  Troger,  one  of  the  judges,  "  w^e  do  not 
sit  here  to  listen  to  sermons — thou  shalt  babble  some  other 
time." — "  He  must  have  his  head  taken  off  for  this  once," 
said  the  bailifi^ Am-Ort,  with  a  laugh,  "but  if  he  should  re- 
cover it  again,  we  will  all  embrace  his  creed." — "May  God 
forgive  those  who  have  condemned  me!"  exclaimed  the  pri- 
soner; and  when  a  monk  presented  a  crucifix  to  his  lips, 
''  It  is  the  heart,"  said  he,  pushing  it  away,  "  that  must  re- 
ceive Jesus  Christ." 

When  he  was  led  forth  to  death,  there  were  many  among 
the  spectators  who  could  not  restrain  their  tears.  He  turned 
towards  them,  and  said,  "  I  am  going  to  everlasting  happi- 
ness." On  reaching  the  place  of  execution,  he  lifted  up  his 
eyes  to  heaven,  saying,  "  Oh,  my  Redeemer,  into  thy  hands  I 
commend  my  spirit !" — and  a  moment  after,  his  head  rolled 
upon  the  scaffold. 

No  sooner  had  the  blood  of  Hottinger  been  shed  than  the 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  seized  the  opportunity  of  inflam- 
ing the  anger  of  the  confederates  to  a  higher  pitch.  It  was  in 
Zurich  that  the  root  of  the  mischief  must  be  crushed.  So 
terrible  an  example  as  that  which  had  now  been  set,  could 
not  fail  to  intimidate  Zwingle  and  his  folio v.'ers.  One  vigor- 
ous effort  more, — and  the  Reformation  itself  would  shave  the 


PERSECUTION    INVOKED.  257 

fate  of  Hottinger.  The  Diet  immediately  resolved  that  a  de- 
putation should  be  sent  to  Zurich,  to  call  on  the  councils  and 
the  citizens  to  renounce  their  new  faith. 

The  deputies  were  admitted  to  an  audience  on  the  21st  of 
March.  "  The  ancient  unity  of  the  Christian  Church  is 
broken,"  said  they  ;  "  the  evil  is  gaining  ground  ;  the  clergy 
of  the  four  Forest  Cantons  have  already  intimated  to  the  ma- 
gistrates that  aid  must  be  afforded  them,  or  their  functions 
must  cease.  Confederates  of  Zurich !  join  your  efforts  to 
ours;  root  out  this  new  religion;*  dismiss  Zwingle  and  his 
disciples;  and  then  let  us  all  unite  to  remedy  the  abuses 
which  have  arisen  from  the  encroachments  of  popes  and  their 
courtiers." 

Such  was  the  language  of  the  adversary.  How  would  the 
men  of  Zurich  now  demean  themselves  1  Would  their  hearts, 
fail  them  ?  Had  their  courage  ebbed  away  with  the  blood  of 
their  fellow-citizens  1 

The  men  of  Zurich  left  neither  friends  nor  enemies  long  in 
suspense.  The  reply  of  the  Council  was  calm  and  dignified. 
They  could  make  no  concessions  in  what  concerned  the  word 
of  God.  And  their  very  next  act  was  a  reply  more  em- 
phatic still. 

It  had  been  the  custom  ever  si»ice  the  year  1351,  that,  on 
Whit  Monday,  a  numerous  company  of  pilgrims,  each  bear- 
ing a  cross,  should  go  in  procession  to  Einsidlen,  to  worship 
the  Virgin.  This  festival,!  instituted  in  commemoration  of 
the  battle  of  Tatwyll,  was  commonly  attended  with  great  dis- 
orders. It  would  fall,  this  year,  on  the  7th  May.  At  the  in- 
stance of  the  three  pastors,  it  was  now  abolished,  and  all  the 
other  customary  processions  were  successively  brought  under 
due  regulation. 

Nor  did  the  Council  stop  here.    The  relics,  which  had  given 

*  Zurich  selbigen  ausreuten  und  untertrucken  helfe.  (Holt  Helv. 
K.  G.  iii.  p.  170.) 

t  Uff  einen  creitzgang  sieben  unehelicher  kinden  uberkommen 
wurdend.     (Bullinger  Chr.  p.  160.) 

22* 


258  SWISS    AND    GERMAN    REFORMATION'S. 

occasion  to  so  many  superstitions,  were  honourably  interred.* 
And  then,  on  the  further  requisition  of  the  three  pastors,  an 
edict  was  issued,  decreeing  that,  inasmuch  as  God  alone  ought 
to  be  honoured,  the  images  should  be  removed  from  all  the 
churches  of  the  canton,  and  their  ornaments  applied  to  the  re- 
lief of  the  poor.  Accordingly,  twelve  councillors, — one  for 
each  tribe,  the  three  pastors,  and  the  city  architect, — with 
some  smiths,  carpenters,  and  masons,  visited  the  several 
churches;  and  having  first  closed  the  doors,  took  down  the 
crosses,  obliterated  the  paintings,  whitewashed  the  walls,  and  car- 
ried away  the  images,  to  the  great  joy  of  the  faithful,  who  re- 
garded this  proceeding,  Bullinger  tells  us,  as  a  glorious  act  of 
homage  to  the  true  God.  In  some  of  the  country  parishes, 
the  ornaments  of  the  churches  were  committed  to  the  flames, 
"  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God."  Soon  after  this,  the  organs 
were  suppressed,  on  account  of  their  connection  with  many 
superstitious  observances  ;  and  a  new  form  of  baptism  was  es- 
tablished, from  which  everything  unscriptural  was  carefully 
excluded.! 

The  triumph  of  the  Reformation  threw  a  joyful  radiance 
over  the  last  hours  of  the  burgomaster  Roust  and  his  colleague. 
They  had  lived  long  enough;  and  they  both  cJi>  d  within  a 
few  days  af:er  the  restoration  of  a  purer  mode  of  worship. 

The  Swiss  Reformation  here  presents  itself  to  us  under 
an  aspect  rather  different  from  that  assumed  by  the  Re- 
formation in  Germany.  Luther  had  severely  rebuked 
the  excesses  of  those  who  broke  down  the  images  in  the 
churches  of  Wittemberg  ; — and  here  we  behold  Zwingle,  pre- 
siding in  person  over  the  removal  of  images  from  the  temples 
of  Zurich.  This  difference  is  explained  by  the  different  light 
in  which  the  two  Reformers  viewed  the  same  object.  Luther 
was  desirous  of  retaining  in  the  Church  all  that  was  not  ex- 
pressly contradicted  by  Scripture, — while  Zwingle  was  intent 
on  abolishing  all  that  could  not  be  proved  by  Scripture.  The 
German  Reformer  wished  to  remain  united  to  the  Church  of 

*  Und  es  eerlich  bestattet  hat.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  161.) 
t  Habend  die  nach  in  en  zu  beschlossen. 


THE    JEWISH    AND    PAGAN    ELEMENTS.  259 

all  preceding-  ages,  and  sought  only  to  purify  it  from  every- 
thing that  was  repugnant  to  the  word  of  God.  The  Reform- 
er of  Zurich  passed  back  over  every  intervening  age  till  he 
reacr.ed  the  times  of  the  apostles  ;  and,  subjecting  the  Church 
to  an  entire  transformation,  laboured  to  restore  it  to  its  primi- 
tive condition. 

Zwingle's  Reformation,  therefore,  was  the  more  complete. 
The  work  which  Divine  Providence  had  entrusted  to  Luther, 
— the  re-establishment  of  the  doctrine  of  Justification  by  Faith, 
was  undoubtedly  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation ;  but 
when  this  was  accomplished,  other  ends,  of  real,  if  not  of  pri. 
mary  importance,  remained  to  be  achieved ;  and  to  these,  the 
efforts  of  Zwingle  were  more  especially  devoted. 

Two  mighty  tasks,  in  fact,  had  been  assigned  to  the  Reform- 
ers. Christian  Catholicism  taking  its  rise  amidst  Jewish 
Pharisaism,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Paganism  of  Greece,  on 
the  other,  had,  by  degrees,  contracted  something  of  the  spirit 
of  each  of  those  systems,  and  had  thus  been  transformed  into 
Roman  Catholicism.  The  Reformation,  therefore,  whose 
mission  it  was  to  purify  the  church,  had  to  clear  it  alike  fL'om 
the  Jewish  and  the  Pagan  element. 

The  Jewish  element  had  incorporated  itself  chiefly  with  that 
portion  of  Christian  doctrine  which  relates  to  man.  Catholic- 
ism had  borrowed  from  Judaism  the  pharisaic  notions  of  in- 
herent righteousness,  and  salvation  obtainable  by  human 
strength  or  works. 

The  Pagan  element  had  allied  itself  principally  with  that 
other  portion  of  Christian  doctrine  which  relates  to  God.  Pa- 
ganism had  corrupted  the  catholic  notion  of  an  infinite  Deity, 
whose  power,  being  absolutely  all-sufficient,  acts  everywhere 
and  at  every  moment.  It  had  set  up  in  the  church  the  do- 
minion of  symbols,  images,  and  ceremonies;  and  the  saints 
had  become  the  demi-gods  of  Popery. 

The  Reformation,  in  the  hands  of  Luther,  was  directed  es- 
sentially against  the  Jewish  element.  With  this  he  had  been 
compelled  to  struggle  at  the  outset,  when  an  audacious  monk, 


260  zwingle's  and  luther's  tasks. 

on  behalf  of  the  Pope,  was  bartering  the  salvation  of  souls  for 
paltry  coin. 

The  Reformation,  as  conducted  by  Zwingle,  was  directed 
mainly  against  the  Pagan  element.  It  was  this  that  he  had 
first  encountered,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Virgin  at  Einsidlen, 
when  crowds  of  worshippers,  benighted  as  those  of  old  who 
thronged  the  temple  of  Ephesian  Diana,  were  gathered  from 
every  side  to  cast  themselves  down  before  a  gilded  idol. 

The  Reformer  of  Germany  proclaimed  the  great  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith, — and,  in  so  doing,  inflicted  a  death 
blow  on  the  pharisaic  righteousness  of  Rome.  The  Swiss 
Reformer,  undoubtedly,  did  the  same.  The  inability  of  man 
to  save  himself  is  the  fundamental  truth  on  which  all  reformers 
have  taken  their  stand.  But  Zwingle  did  something  more. 
He  brought  forward,  as  practical  principles,  the  existence  of 
God,  and  His  sovereign,  universal,  and  exclusive  agency  ;  and 
by  the  working  out  of  these  principles,  Rome  was  utterly  be- 
reft of  all  the  props  that  had  supported  her  paganized  worship. 

Roman  Catholicism  had  exalted  man  and  degraded  God. 
Luther  reduced  man  to  his  proper  level  of  abasement ;  and 
Zwingle  restored  God,  (if  we  may  so  speak,)  to  his  unlimited 
and  undivided  supremacy. 

Of  these  two  distinct  tasks,  which  were  specially,  though 
not  exclusively,  allotted  to  the  two  Reformers,  each  was  neces- 
sary to  the  completion  of  the  other.  It  was  Luther's  part  to 
lay  the  foundation  of  the  edifice — Zwingle's  to  rear  the  super- 
structure. 

To  an  intellect  gifted  with  a  still  more  capacious  grasp,  was 
the  office  reserved  of  developing  on  the  shores  of  the  Leman, 
the  peculiar  characters  of  the  Swiss  and  the  German  Refor- 
mation,— blending  them  together  and  imprinting  them  thus 
combined,  on  the  Reformation  as  a  whole.* 

But  while  Zwingle  was  thus  carrying  on  the  great  work, 
the  disposition  of  the  cantons  was  daily  beooming  more  hostile. 
The  government  of  Zurich  felt  how  necessary  it  was  to  as- 
sure itself  of  the  support  of  the  people.  The  people,  more- 
*  Litterarischer  Anzeiger,  1840,  No.  27. 


THE  COUNCIL  AUD  THE  PEOPLE.         261 

over, — that  is  to  say,  "  the  assembly  of  believers,"  was,  accord- 
ing to  Zwingle's  principles,  the  highest  earthly  authority  to 
which  an  appeal  could  be  made.  The  Council  resolved, 
therefore,  to  test  the  state  of  public  opinion,  and  instructed  the 
bailiffs  to  demand  of  all  the  townships,  whether  they  were 
ready  to  endure  everything  for  the  sake  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  "who  shed  his  precious  blood,"  said  the  Council,  "for 
us  poor  sinners."*  The  whole  canton  followed  close  upon  the 
city  in  the  career  of  Reformation, — and,  in  many  places,  the 
houses  of  the  peasants  had  become  schools  of  Christian  in- 
struction, in  which  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  constantly  read. 

The  proclamation  of  the  Council  was  received  by  all  the 
townships  with  enthusiasm  ;  "  Only  let  our  magistrates  hold 
fast  and  fearlessly  to  the  word  of  God,"  answered  they,  "  we 
will  help  them  to  maintain  it;t  and,  if  any  should  seek  to  mo- 
lest them,  we  will  come  like  brave  and  loyal  citizens  to  their 
aid."  The  peasantry  of  Zurich  showed,  on  that  occasion,  as 
they  have  recently  shown  again,  that  the  strength  of  the 
Church  is  in  the  Christian  people. 

But  the  people  were  not  alone.  The  man  whom  God  had 
placed  at  their  head,  answered  worthily  to  their  call  Zwin- 
gle  seemed  to  multiply  himself  for  the  service  of  God.  Who- 
soever, in  any  of  the  cantons  of  Switzerland,  suffered  perse- 
cution for  the  Gospel's  sake,  addressed  himself  to  him  %  The 
weight  of  business,  the  care  of  the  churches,^  the  solicitude  in- 
spired by  that  glorious  struggle  which  was  now  beginning  to  be 
waged  in  every  valley  of  his  native  land — all  pressed  heavily 
on  the  Evangelist  of  Zurich.  At  Wittemberg,  the  tidings  of 
his  courageous  deportment  were  received  with  joy.     Luther 

*  Der  sin  rosenfarw  bliit  alein  fur  uns  arme  sunder  vergossen  hat. 
(Bnll.  Chr.  p.  180.) 

t  Meine  Herrn  sollten  auch  nur  dapfer  bey  dem  Gottsworte  \'er- 
bleiben.  (Ftissl.  Beytr.  iv.  p.  107.  where  the  answer  given  by  each 
township  is  recorded.) 

t  Scribunt  e  Helvetiis  ferme  omnes  qui  propter  Christum  pre- 
muntur.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  348.) 

§  Negotiorum  strepitus  et  ecclesiarum  curse  ita  me  undique  quatiunt. 
(Ibid.) 


262       THE  POPE  AND  THE  CONFEDERATES. 

and  Zwingle  were  the  two  great  luminaries  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Germany;  and  the  doctrine  of  salvation,  which  they 
proclaimed  so  powerfully,  was  fast  diffusing  itself  over  all 
those  vast  tracts  of  country  that  stretch  from  the  summit 
of  the  Alps  to  the  shores  of  the  Baltic  and  the  German 
Ocean. 

While  the  word  of  God  was  pursuing  its  victorious  course 
over  these  spacious  regions,  we  cannot  wonder  that  the  Pope 
in  his  palace,  the  inferior  clergy  in  their  presbyteries,  the  ma- 
gistrates of  Switzerland  in  their  councils,  should  have  viewed 
its  triumphs  with  alarm  and  indignation.  Their  consternation 
increased  every  day.  The  people  had  been  consulted  ; — the 
Christian  people  had  again  become  something  in  the  Christian 
Church  ;  their  sympathies  and  their  faith  were  now  appealed 
to,  instead  of  the  decrees  of  the  Roman  chancery.  An  attack 
so  formidable  as  this  must  be  met  by  a  resistance  more  formi- 
dable still.  On  the  18th  April,  the  Pope  addressed  a  brief  to 
the  Confederates  ;  and,  in  the  month  of  July,  the  Diet  assem- 
bled at  Zug,  yielding  to  the  urgent  exhortations  of  the  Pontiff^ 
sent  a  deputation  to  Zurich,  SchafThausen,  and  Appenzel,  to 
notify  to  those  states  their  fixed  determination  that  the  new 
doctrine  should  be  entirely  suppressed,  and  its  adherents  sub- 
jected to  the  forfeiture  of  property,  honours,  and  even  life  it- 
self Such  an  announcement  could  not  fail  to  excite  a  strong 
sensation  at  Zurich ;  but  a  resolute  answer  was  returned  from 
that  canton, — that  in  matters  of  faith,  the  word  of  God  alone 
must  be  obeyed.  When  this  reply  was  communicated  to  the 
assembly,  the  liveliest  resentment  was  manifested  on  the  part 
of  Lucerne,  Schwitz,  Uri,  Unterwalden,  Friburg,  and  Zug, 
and)  forgetting  the  reputation  and  the  strength  which  the  ac- 
cession of  Zurich  had  formerly,imparted  to  the  infant  Confede- 
ration, forgetting  the  precedence  which  had  been  assigned  to 
her,  the  simple  and  solemn  oaths  of  fidelity  by  which  they 
were  bound  to  her, — the  many  victories  and  reverses  they  had 
shared  with  her, — these  states  declared  that  they  would  no 
longer  sit  with  Zurich  in  the  Diet.  In  Switzerland,  there- 
fore, as  well  as  in  Germany,  the  partisans  of  Rome  were  the 


ABDUCTION    OF    (EXLIN.  263 

first  to  rend  asunder  the  federal  union.  But  threats  and 
breaches  of  alliance  were  not  enough.  The  fanaticism  of  the 
cantons  was  clamorous  for  blood  ;  and  it  soon  appeared  what 
were  the  weapons  Avhich  Popery  intended  to  wield  against  the 
word  of  God. 

The  excellent  CExlin,*  a  friend  of  Zwingle,  was  the  pastor 
of  Burg,  a  village  in  the  vicinity  of  Stein,  upon  the  Rhine. 
The  bailiff  Am-Berg,  who  had  previously  appeared  to  favour 
the  cause  of  the  Gospel, f  being  anxious  to  obtain  that  bailiwick, 
had  pledged  himself  to  the  leadingmen  of  the  canton  of  Schwitz, 
that  he  would  put  down  the  new  religion.  CExlin,  though  not 
resident  within  his  jurisdiction,  was  the  first  object  of  his  per- 
secution. 

On  the  night  of  the  7th  July,  1524,  near  midnight,  a  loud 
knocking  was  heard  at  the  pastor's  door ;  it  was  opened  ; — 
they  were  the  soldiers  of  the  bailiff  They  seized  him  and 
dragged  him  away  prisoner,  in  spite  of  his  cries.  GExlin,  be- 
lieving that  they  meant  to  put  him  to  death,  shrieked  out 
"  Murder  !"  The  inhabitants  rose  from  their  beds  in  affright, 
and  the  whole  village  immediately  became  a  scene  of  tumult, 
the  noise  of  which  was  heard  as  far  as  Stein.  The  sentinel 
posted  at  the  castle  of  Hohenklingen  fired  the  alarm  gun,  the 
tocsin  was  sounded,  and  the  inhabitants  of  Stein,  Stammheim, 
and  the  adjacent  places,  were  shortly  all  a-foot  and  cluster- 
ing together  in  the  dark,  to  ask  each  other  what  was  the 
matter. 

Stammheim  was  the  residence  of  the  deputy-bailiff  Wirth, 
whose  two  eldest  sons,  Adrian  and  John,  young  priests  full  of 
piety  and  courage,  were  zealously  engaged  in  preaching  the 
Gospel.  John  especially  was  gifted  with  a  fervent  faith,  and 
stood  prepared  to  offer  up  his  life  in  the  cause  of  his  Saviour. 
It  was  a  household  of  the  patriarchal  cast.  Anna,  the  mo- 
ther, who  had  brought  the  bailiff  a  numerous  family,  and  rear- 
ed them  up  in  the  fear  of  God,  was  revered  for  her  virtues 
through  the  whole  country  round.     At  the  sound  of  the  tu- 

*  See  Vol.  ii.  p.  298. 

t  Der  war  anfangs  dem  Evangelio  gunstig.     (Bull*  Chr.  p.  180.) 


264  RIOT    AND    CONFLAGRATION. 

mult  in  Burg,  the  father  and  his  two  sons  came  abroad  like 
their  neighbours.  The  father  was  incensed  when  he  found 
that  the  bailiff  of  Frauenfeld  had  exercised  his  authoriry  in  a 
manner  repugnant  to  the  laws  of  his  country.  The  sons  were 
grieved  by  the  tidhigs  that  their  friend  and  brother,  whose 
good  example  they  delighted  to  follow,  had  been  carried  off 
like  a  criminal.  Each  of  the  three  seized  a  halberd,  and  re- 
gardless of  the  fears  of  a  tender  wife  and  mother,  father  and 
sons  joined  the  troop  of  townspeople  who  had  sallied  out  from 
Stein  with  the  resolute  purpose  of  setting  their  pastor  at  liber- 
ty. Unfortunately,  a  band  of  those  ill-disposed  persons  who 
never  fail  to  make  their  appearance  in  a  moment  of  disorder, 
had  mingled  with  the  burghers  in  their  march.  The  bailiff's 
Serjeants  were  hotly  followed;  but  warned  by  the  tocsin  and 
the  shouts  of  alarm  which  echoed  on  every  side,  they  re- 
doubled their  speed,  dragging  their  prisoner  along  with  them, 
and  in  a  little  time  the  Thur  was  interposed  between  them  and 
their  pursuers. 

When  the  people  of  Stein  and  Stammheim  reached  the 
bank  of  the  river  and  found  no  means  of  crossing  it,  they 
halted  on  the  spot,  and  resolved  to  send  a  deputation  to  Frau- 
enfeld. "Oh!"  said  the  bailiff  Wirth,  "the  pastor  of  Stein 
is  so  dear  to  us  that  I  would  willingly  sacrifice  all  I  possess, — 
my  liberty, — my  very  heart's  blood — for  his  sake."*  The 
rabble,  meanwhile,  finding  themselves  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  convent  of  Ittingen,  occupied  by  a  community  of  Car- 
thusians, who  were  generally  believed  to  have  encouraged  the 
bailiff  Am-Berg  in  his  tyranny,  entered  the  building  and  took 
possession  of  the  refectory.  They  immediately  gave  them- 
selves up  to  excess,  and  a  scene  of  riot  ensued.  In  vain  did 
Wirth  entreat  them  to  quit  the  place  ;f  he  was  in  danger  of 
personal  ill  treatment  among  them.  His  son  Adrian  had 
remained  outside  of  the  monastery;  John  entered  it,  but 
shocked  by  what  he  beheld  within,  came  out  again  imme- 

*  Sunder  die  kuttlen  in  Buch  fur  In  wagen.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  193.) 
t  Und  badt  sy  um  Gottes  willen  uss  dem  Kloster  zu  gand.      (Ibid. 
p.  183.) 


THE   WIRTHS   ARRESTED.  265 

diately.*  The  inebriated  peasants  proceeded  to  pillage  the 
cellars  and  granaries,  to  break  the  furniture  to  pieces,  and  to 
burn  the  books. 

As  soon  ac  the  news  of  these  disorders  reached  Zurich,  the 
deputies  of  the  Council  were  summoned  in  haste,  and  orders 
issued  for  all  persons  belonging  to  the  canton  who  had  left 
their  homes  to  return  to  them  immediately.  These  orders 
were  obeyed.  But  a  crowd  of  Thurgovians,  drawn  together 
by  the  tumult,  now  established  themselves  in  the  convent  for 
the  sake  of  the  good  cheer  which  they  found  there.  A  fire 
suddenly  broke  out,  no  one  could  tell  how, — and  the  edifice 
was  reduced  to  ashes. 

Five  days  after,  the  deputies  of  the  cantons  were  convened 
at  Zug.  nothing  was  heard  in  this  assembly  but  threats  of 
vengeance  and  death.  "  Let  us  march,"  said  they,  "with  our 
banners  spread,  against  Stein  and  Stammheim,  and  put  the 
inhabitants  to  the  Svvord."  The  deputy-bailiff  and  his  two 
sons  had  long  been  objects  of  especial  dislike  on  account  of 
their  faith.  "If  any  one  is  guilty,"  said  the  deputy  from 
Zurich,  "  he  must  be  punished ;  but  let  it  be  by  the  rules  of 
justice,  not  by  violence."  Vadian,  the  deputy  from  St.  Gall, 
spoke  to  the  same  effect.  Hereupon  the  avoyer  John  Hug  of 
Lucerne,  unable  any  longer  to  contain  himself,  broke  out  into 
frightful  imprecations.!  "  The  heretic  Zwingle  is  the  father 
of  all  these  rebellions ;  and  you.  Doctor  of  St.  Gall,  you 
favour  his  hateful  cause,  and  labour  for  its  advancement.  You 
shall  sit  here  with  us  no  longer!"  The  deputy  for  Zug 
endeavoured  to  restore  order,  but  in  vain.  Vadian  retired ; 
and  knowing  that  his  life  was  in  danger  from  some  of  the 
lower  order  of  the  people,  secretly  left  the  town,  and,  by  a 
circuitous  road,  reached  the  convent  of  Cappel  in  safety. 

The  magistrates  of  Zurich,  intent  upon  repressing  all 
commotion,  resolved  upon  a  provisional  arrest  of  the  individ- 
uals against  whom  the  anger  of  the  confederates  had  been 
more  particularly  manifested.    Wirth  and  his  sons  were  living 

*  Dan  es  im  leicl  was.  (Bull.  Chr.  p.  195.) 
t  Mit  fluchen  und  wliten.  (Ibid.  p.  184.) 
VOL.  III.  23 


266  THE    PRISONERS    SURRENDERED. 

quietly  at  Stammheim.  "  Never,"  said  Adrian  Wirth  from 
the  pulpit,  "can  the  friends  of  God  have  any  thing  to  fear 
from  His  enemies."  The  father  was  warned  of  the  fate  that 
awaited  him,  and  advised  to  make  his  escape  along  with  his 
sons.  "  No,"  he  replied,  "  I  put  my  trust  in  God,  and  will 
wait  for  the  Serjeants  here."  When  at  length  a  party  of 
soldiers  presented  themselves  at  his  door — "  Their  worships 
of  Zurich,"  said  he,  "might  have  spared  themselves  this 
trouble; — had  they  only  sent  a  child  to  fetch  me,  I  would  have 
obeyed  their  bidding  "*  The  three  Wirths  were  carried  to 
Zurich  and  lodged  in  the  prison.  Rutiman,  the  bailiff  of 
Nussbaum,  shareu  their  confinement.  They  underwent  a 
rigid  examination ;  but  the  conduct  they  were  proved  to  have 
held  furnished  no  ground  of  complaint  against  them. 

As  soon  as  the  deputies  of  the  cantons  were  apprized  of  the 
imprisonment  of  these  four  citizens,  they  demanded  that  they 
should  be  sent  to  Baden,  and  decreed  that,  in  case  of  a  refusal, 
an  armed  power  should  march  upon  Zuri'^.h,  and  carry  them 
off  by  force.  "  It  belongs  of  right  to  Zurich,"  replied  the 
deputies  of  that  canton,  "  to  determine  whether  these  men  are 
guilty  or  not,  and  we  find  no  fault  in  them."  Hereupon,  the 
deputies  of  the  cantons  cried  out,  "  Will  you  surrender  them 
to  us,  or  not? — answer  yes  or  no — in  a  single  word."  Two 
of  the  deputies  of  Zurich  mounted  their  horses  at  once,  and 
repaired  with  all  speed  to  their  constituents. 

Their  arrival  threw  the  whole  town  into  the  utmost  agita- 
tion. If  the  authorities  of  Zurich  should  refuse  to  give  up  the 
prisoners,  the  confederates  would  soon  appear  in  arms  at  their 
gates,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  to  give  them  up,  was,  in  effect, 
to  consent  to  their  death.  Opinions  were  divided.  Zwingle 
insisted  on  a  refusal.  "Zurich,"  said  he,  "must  remain 
faithful  to  its  ancient  laws."  At  last  a  kind  of  compromise 
was  suggested.  "We  will  deliver  up  the  prisoners,"  said 
they  to  the  Diet,  "  but  on  this  condition,  that  you  shall  exam- 
ine them  regarding  the  affiiir  of  Ittingen  only,  and  not  with 
reference  to  their  faith."     The  Diet  agreed  to  this  proposition  ; 

♦  Dann  hattind  sy  mir  ein  kind  geschikt.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  186.) 


A    SPECTACLE    TO    THE    WORLD.  ^Q7 

and  on  the  Friday  before  St.  Bartholomew's  day,  (August, 
1524,)  the  three  Wirths  and  their  friend  took  their  departure 
from  Zurich  under  the  escort  of  four  Councillors  of  State  and 
a  few  soldiers. 

The  deepest  concern  was  manifested  on  this  occasion  by  the 
whole  body  of  the  people.  The  fate  which  awaited  the  two 
old  men  and  the  two  brothers  was  distinctly  foreseen.  No- 
thing but  sobs  was  heard  as  they  passed  along.  "  Alas  !"  ex- 
claims a  contemporary  writer,  "  what  a  woeful  journey  was 
that  1"*  The  churches  were  all  thronged.  "  God  will  punish 
us,"  cried  Zwingle, — "  He  will  surely  punish  us.  Let  us  at 
least  beseech  Him  to  visit  these  poor  prisoners  with  comfort, 
and  strengthen  them  in  the  true  faith."t 

On  the  Friday  evening,  the  prisoners  arrived  at  Baden, 
where  an  immense  crowd  was  awaiting  to  receive  them. 
They  were  taken  first  to  an  inn,  and  afterwards  to  the  jail. 
The  people  pressed  so  closely  round  to  see  them  that  they 
could  scarcely  move.  The  father,  who  walked  first,  turned 
round  towards  his  sons,  and  meekly  said, — "  See,  my  dear 
children,  we  are  like  those  of  whom  the  Apostle  speaks, — men 
appointed  to  death,  a  spectacle  to  the  world,  to  angels  and  to 
men." — (1  Cor.  iv.  9.)  Just  then  he  chanced  to  observe, 
among  the  crowd,  the  bailiff  Am-Berg,  his  mortal  enemy,  and 
the  prime  author  of  all  his  misfortunes.  He  went  up  to  him, 
held  out  his  hand,  and,  grasping  Am-Berg's, — though  the 
bailiff"  would  have  turned  away, — said,  with  much  composure, 
"  There  is  a  God  above  us,  and  He  knows  all  things." 

The  examination  began  the  next  morning.  Wirth,  the 
father,  was  the  first  who  was  brought  before  the  tribunal. 
Without  the  least  consideration  for  his  character  or  for  his 
age.  he  was  put  to  the  torture ;  but  he  persisted  in  declaring 
that  he  was  innocent  both  of  the  pillage  and  the  burning  of 
Ittingen.  A  charge  was  then  brought  against  him  of  having 
destroyed  an  image  representing  St.  Anne.     As  to  the  other 

♦  O  weh !  was  elender  Fahrt  war  das !  (Bern.  Weyss,  Fussl.  Beyt. 
iv.  p.  56.) 

t  Sy  troste  mid  in  warem  glouben  starckte.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  188.) 


268  "cruel  mockings." 

prisoners, — nothings  could  be  substantiated  against  them,  ex- 
cept that  Adrian  Wirth  was  married,  and  that  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  preach  after  the  manner  of  Zwingle  and  Luther ;  and 
that  John  Wirth  had  given  the  holy  sacrament  to  a  sick  man 
without  candle  or  bell  !* 

But  the  more  conclusively  their  innocence  was  established, 
the  more  furious  became  the  excitement  of  their  adversaries. 
From  morning  till  noon  of  that  day,  the  old  man  was  made  to 
endure  all  the  severity  of  torture.  His  tears  were  of  no  avail 
to  soften  the  hearts  of  his  judges.  John  Wirth  was  still  more 
cruelly  tormented.  "  Tell  us,"  said  they,  in  the  midst  of  his 
agonies,  "  from  whom  didst  thou  learn  thy  heretical  creed  ? 
Was  it  Zwingle,  or  who  else,  that  taught  it  thee  ?"  And 
when  he  was  heard  to  exclaim,  "  O  merciful  and  everlasting 
God!  grant  me  help  and  comfort!"  "Aha!"  said  one  of 
the  deputies,  "  where  is  your  Christ  now  ?"  When  Adrian 
was  brought  forward,  Sebastian  von  Stein,  a  deputy  of  Berne, 
addressing  him  thus  : — "  Young  man,  tell  us  the  truth,  for  if 
you  refuse  to  do  so,  I  swear  by  my  knighthood, — the  knight- 
hood I  received  on  the  very  spot  where  God  suffered  martyr- 
dom,— we  will  open  all  the  veins  in  your  body,  one  by  one." 
The  young  man  was  then  hoisted  up  by  a  cord,  and  while  he 
was  sv^^inging  in  the  air,  "  Young  master,"  said  Stein,  with  a 
fiendish  sraile,t  "  this  is  our  wedding  gift ;"  alluding  to  the 
marriage  which  the  youthful  ecclesiastic  had  recently  con- 
tracted. 

The  examination  being  now  concluded,  the  deputies  return- 
ed to  their  several  cantons  to  make  their  report,  and  did  not 
assemble  again  until  four  weeks  had  expired.  The  bailiff's 
wife, — the  mother  of  the  two  young  priests, — repaired  to  Ba- 
den,  carrying  a  child  in  her  arms,  to  appeal  to  the  compassion 
of  the  judges.  John  Escher,  of  Zurich,  accompanied  her  as 
her  advocate.    The  latter  recognised  among  the  judges  Jerome 

*  On  Kerzen,  schellen  und  anders  so  bisshar  geiipt  ist.  (Bull.  Chr. 
p.  196.) 

t  Alls  man  inn  am  folter  seyl  uiTzog,  sagt  der  zum  Stein :  Herrlij 
das  ist,  die  gaab  diewir  \ich  zu  xiwer  Hussfrowen  schanckcTid.  (Ibid* 
p.  190.) 


"  FAITHFUL    UNTO    DEATH."  269 

Stocker,  the  landamman  of  Zug,  who  had  twice  been  bailiff 
of  Frail enfeld.  "  Landamman,"  said  he,  accosting-  him,  "you 
remember  the  bailiff  Wirth ;  you  know  that  he  has  always 
been  an  honest  man."  "  It  is  most  true,  my  good  friend 
Escher,"  replied  Stocker  ;  "  he  never  did  any  one  an  injury  : 
countrymen  and  strangers  alike  were  sure  to  find  a  hearty 
welcome  at  his  table  ;  his  house  was  a  convent, — inn, — hos- 
pital, all  in  one.*  And  knowing  this,  as  I  do,  had  he  com- 
mitted a  robbery  or  a  murder,  I  would  have  spared  no  effort 
to  obtain  his  pardon  ;  but  since  he  has  burned  St.  Anne,  the 
grandmother  of  Christ,  it  is  but  right  that  he  should  die  !" — 
"  Then  God  take  pity  on  us  !"  ejaculated  Escher. 

The  gates  were  now  shut,  (this  was  on  the  28th  of  Septem- 
ber,) and  the  deputies  of  Berne,  Lucerne,  Uri,  Schwitz,  Un- 
derwald,  Zug,  Glaris,  Friburg,  and  Soleure,  having  proceeded 
agreeably  to  usage,  to  deliberate  on  their  judgment  with  closed 
doors,  sentence  of  death  was  passed  upon  the  bailiff  Wirth, 
his  son  John,  who,  of  all  the  accused,  was  the  firmest  in  his 
feith,  and  who  appeared  to  have  gained  over  the  others,  and 
the  bailiff  Rutiman.  They  spared  the  life  of  Adrian,  the 
younger  of  Wirth's  sons,  as  a  boon  to  his  weeping  mother. 

The  prisoners  were  now  brought  forth  from  the  tower  in 
which  they  had  been  confined.  "  My  son,"  said  the  fath.  r  to 
Adrian,  "  we  die  an  undeserved  death,  but  never  do  thou  think 
of  avenging  it."  Adrian  wept  bitterly.  "  My  brother,"  said 
John,  "  where  Christ's  word  comes  his  cq-oss  must  follow."! 

After  the  sentence  had  been  read  to  them,  the  three  christian 
sufferers  were  led  back  to  prison  ;  John  Wirth  walking  first, 
the  two  bailiffs  next,  and  a  vicar  behind  them.  As  they  crossed 
the  castle  bridge,  on  which  there  was  a  chapel  dedicated  to  St. 
Joseph,  the  vicar  called  out  to  the  two  old  men — "  Fall  on 
your  knees  and  invoke  the  saints."  At  these  words,  John 
Wirth,  turning  round,  said,  "  Father,  be  firm  !  You  know 
there  is  but  one  Mediator  between   God  and  man — Christ 

*  Sin  buss  ist  allwey  gein  wie  ein  Kloster,  wirtshuss  und  Spitall, 
(Bull.  Chr.  p.  198.) 
+  Doch  allwag  da3  crutz  darbey.     (Ibid.) 
23* 


270  FATHER    AND    SON    ON    THE    SCAFFOLD. 

Jesus." — "  Assuredly,  my  son,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  and  by 
the  help  of  His  grace,  I  will  continue  faithful  to  Him,  even  to 
the  end."  On  this,  they  all  three  began  to  repeat  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  "  Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven"  .  .  .  And  so  they 
crossed  the  bridge. 

They  were  next  conducted  to  the  scaffold.  John  Wirth, 
whose  heart  was  filled  with  the  tenderest  solicitude  for  his 
father,  bade  him  a  solemn  farewell.  "  My  beloved  father," 
said  he,  "  henceforth  thou  art  my  father  no  longer,  and  I  am 
no  longer  thy  son ; — but  we  are  brothers  still  in  Christ  our 
Lord,  for  whose  name's  sake  we  are  doomed  to  suffer  death.* 
So  now,  if  such  be  God's  will,  my  beloved  brother,  let  us  de- 
part to  be  with  Him  who  is  the  father  of  us  all.  Fear  no- 
thing!"— "Amen!"  answered  the  old  man,  "and  may  God 
Almighty  bless  thee,  my  beloved  son,  and  brother  in  Christ." 

Thus,  on  the  threshold  of  eternity  did  father  and  son  take 
their  leave  of  each  other,  with  joyful  anticipations  of  that  un- 
seen state  in  which  they  should  be  united  anew  by  imperish- 
able ties.  There  were  but  few  among  the  multitude  around 
whose  tears  did  not  flow  profusely.  The  bailiff  Rutiman 
prayed  in  silence.f  All  three  then  knelt  down  "in  Christ's 
name," — and  their  heads  were  severed  from  their  bodies. 

The  crowd,  observing  the  marks  of  torture  on  their  persons, 
uttered  loud  expressions  of  grief  The  two  bailiffs  left  behind 
them  twenty-two  children,  and  forty-five  grand-children.  Anna 
was  obliged  to  pay  twelve  golden  crowns  to  the  executioner 
by  whom  her  husband  and  son  had  been  deprived  of  life. 

Now  at  length  blood  had  been  spilt — innocent  blood.  Switz- 
erland and  the  Reformation  were  baptized  with  the  blood  of 
the  martyrs.  The  great  enemy  of  the  Gospel  had  effected 
his  purpose ;  but  in  effecting  it  he  had  struck  a  mortal  blow 
against  his  own  power.  The  death  of  the  Wirths  was  an 
appointed  means  of  hastening  the  triumph  of  the  Reformation. 

*  Furohin  bist  du  nitt  me  min  Vatter  und  ich  din  sun,  sondern  wir 
sind  briidern  in  Christo.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  204.) 

t  Des  gnadens  weyneten  vil  Liithen  herzlich.     (Ibid.) 


ABOLITION    OF    THE    MASS.  271 

The  Reformers  of  Zurich  had  abstained  from  abolishing 
the  mass  when  they  suppressed  the  use  of  images  ;  but  the 
moment  for  doing  so  seemed  now  to  have  arrived. 

Not  only  had  the  light  of  the  Gospel  been  diffused  among 
the  people — but  the  violence  of  the  enemy  called  upon  the 
friends  of  God's  word  to  reply  by  some  s  riking  demonstra- 
tion of  their  unshaken  constancy.  As  often  as  Rome  shall 
erect  a  scaffold,  and  heads  shall  drop  upon  it,  so  often  shall  the 
Reformation  exalt  the  Lord's  holy  Word,  and  crush  some 
hitherto  untouched  corruption.  When  Hottinger  was  execut- 
ed, Zurich  put  down  the  worship  of  images,  and  now  that  the 
Wirths  have  been  sacrificed,  Zurich  shall  reply  by  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  Mass.  While  Rome  fills  up  the  measure  of  her 
severities,  the  Reformation  shall  be  conscious  of  a  perpetual 
accession  of  strength. 

On  the  11th  of  August,  1525,  the  three  pastors  of  Zurich, 
accompanied  by  Megander,  and  Oswald  and  Myconius,  pre- 
sented themselves  before  the  Great  Council,  and  demanded  the 
re-establishment  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Their  discourse  was 
a  weighty  one,*  and  was  listened  to  with  the  deepest  attention; 
— every  one  felt  how  important  was  the  decision  which  the 
Council  was  called  upon  'o  pronounce.  The  mass — that  mys- 
terious rite  which  for  three  successive  centuries  had  constituted 
the  animating  principle  in  the  worship  of  the  Latin  Church — 
was  now  to  be  abrogated, — the  corporeal  presence  of  Christ 
was  to  be  declared  an  illusion,  and  of  that  illusion,  the  minds 
of  the  people  were  to  be  dispossessed ;  some  courage  was 
needed  for  such  a  resolution  as  this,  and  there  were  individuals 
in  the  Council  who  shuddered  at  the  contemplation  of  so  au- 
dacious a  design.  Joachim  Am-Grut,  the  under-secretary  of 
state,  was  alarmed  by  the  demand  of  the  pastoi-s,  and  opposed 
it  with  all  his  might.  "  The  words.  This  is  my  hody^^  said 
he,  "prove  beyond  all  dispute  that  the  bread  is  the  very  body 
of  Christ  himself"  Zwingle  argued  that  there  is  no  other 
word  in  the  Greek  language  than  son  (is)  to  express  signifies^ 
and  he  quoted  several  instances  of  the  employment  of  that 
*  Und  vermantend  die  ernstlich.    (Bull.  Chr.  p.  263.) 


272  THE  lord's  supper. 

word  in  a  figurative  sense.  The  Great  Council  was  con- 
vinced by  his  reasoning,  and  hesitated  no  longer.  The  evan- 
gelical doctrine  had  sunk  deep  into  every  heart,  and  moreover, 
since  a  separation  from  the  Chu'xh  of  Rome  had  taken  place, 
there  was  a  kind  of  satisfaction  felt  in  making  that  separation 
as  complete  as  possible,  and  digging  a  gulf  as  it  were  between 
the  Reformation  and  her.  The  Council  decreed  therefore  that 
the  mass  should  be  abolished,  and  it  was  determined  that  on 
the  following  day,  which  was  Maundy  Thursday,  the  Lord's 
Supper  should  be  celebrated  in  conformity  to  the  apostolic 
model. 

Zwingle's  mind  had  been  deeply  engaged  in  these  proceed- 
ings; and  at  night,  when  he  closed  his  eyes,  he  was  still 
searching  for  arguments  with  which  to  confront  his  adversa- 
ries. The  subject  that  had  occupied  him  during  the  day,  pre- 
sented itself  to  him  again  in  a  dream.  He  thought  that  he 
was  disputing  with  Am-Griit,  and  could  not  find  an  answer 
to  his  principal  objection.  Suddenly  some  one  stood  before 
him  in  his  dream  and  said,  "  Why  dost  not  thou  quote  the 
11th  verse  of  the  12th  chapter  of  Exodus:  Ye  shall  eat  the 
Lamb  in  haste  ;  it  is  the  LorcDs  Passover  ?"  Zwingle  awoke, 
rose  from  his  bed,  took  up  the  Septuagint  translation,  and 
turning  to  the  verse  found  the  same  word  eait,  (is)  whose  im- 
port in  that  passage,  by  universal  admission,  can  be  no  other 
than  signifies. 

Here  then,  in  the  very  constitution  of  the  paschal  feast  under 
the  old  covenant,  was  the  phrase  employed  in  that  identical 
sense  which  Zwingle  assigned  to  it — who  could  resist  the  con- 
elusion  that  the  two  passages  are  parallel? 

On  the  following  day,  Zwingle  took  the  verse  just  men- 
tioned as  the  text  of  his  discourse,  and  reasoned  so  forcibly 
from  it  that  the  doubts  of  his  hearers  were  dispelled. 

The  incident  which  has  now  been  related,  and  which  is  so 

naturally  explained — and  the  particular  expression*  used  by 

Zwingle  to  intimate  that  he  had  no  recollection  of  the  aspect 

of  the  person  whom  he  saw  in  his  dream,  have  given  rise  to 

*  Ater  fuerit  an  albus  nihil  memini,  somnium  enim  narro. 


BROTHERLY    LOVE.  273 

the  assertion  that  the  doctrine  promulgated  by  the  Reformer 
was  delivered  to  him  by  the  devil ! 

The  altars  disappeared ;  some  plain  tables,  covered  with 
the  sacramental  bread  and  wine,  occupied  their  places,  and  a 
crowd  of  eager  communicants  was  gathered  round  them. 
There  was  something  exceedingly  solemn  in  that  assemblage. 
Our  Lord's  death  was  commemorated  on  three  different  days, 
by  different  portions  of  the  community: — on  Maunday  Thurs- 
day, by  the  young  people ;  on  Good  Friday,  the  day  of  his 
passion,  by  those  who  had  reached  the  middle  stage  of  life ; 
on  Easter  Sunday,  by  the  aged.* 

After  the  deacons  had  read  aloud  such  passages  of  Scripture 
as  relate  to  this  sacrament,  the  pastors  addressed  their  flock 
in  the  language  of  pressing  admonition, — charging  all  those 
whose  wilful  indulgence  in  sin  would  bring  dishonour  on  the 
body  of  Christ  to  withdraw  from  that  holy  feast.  The  people 
then  fell  on  their  knees;  the  bread  was  carried  round  on  large 
wooden  dishes  or  platters,  and  every  one  broke  off'  a  morsel 
for  himself;  the  wine  was  distributed  in  wooden  drinking 
cups ;  the  resemblance  to  the  primitive  Supper  was  thought 
to  be  the  closer.  The  hearts  of  those  who  celebrated  this 
ordinance  were  affected  witii  alternate  emotions  of  wonder 
and  joy.f 

Such  was  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  at  Zurich.  The 
simple  commemoration  of  our  Lord's  death  caused  a  fresh 
overflow  in  the  Church,  of  love  to  God,  and  love  to  the 
brethren.  The  words  of  Jesus  Christ  were  once  more  proved 
to  be  '  spirit  and  life.'  Whereas  the  difl?*erent  orders  and  sec- 
tions of  the  Church  of  Rome  had  kept  up  incessant  disputes 
among  themselves,  the  first  effect  of  the  Gospel,  on  its  re- 
appearance in  the  Church,  was  the  revival  of  brotherly  char- 
ity. The  Love  which  had  glowed  so  brightly  in  the  first 
ages  of  Christianity,  was  now  kindled  anew.  Men,  who  had 
before  been  at  variance,  were  found  renouncing  their  long- 

*  Fusslin  Beytr.  iv.  p.  64. 

t  Mit  grossem  verwundern  viler  Lixthen  und  noch  mit  vil  grossern 
firouden  der  gloubigen.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  264.) 


274  ZWINGLE    ON    ORIGINAL    SIN. 

cherished  enmity,  and  cordially  embracing  each  other,  after 
having  broken  bread  together  at  the  table  of  the  Lord. 
Zvvingle  rejoiced  at  these  affecting  manifestations  of  grace, 
and  returned  thanks  to  God  that  the  Lord's  Supper  was  again 
working  those  miracles  of  charity,  which  had  long  since 
ceased  to  be  displayed  in  connection  with  the  sacrifice  of  the 
mass.* 

"  Our  city,"  said  he,  "  continues  at  peace.  There  is  no 
fraud,  no  dissension,  no  envy,  no  wrangling  among  us. 
Where  shall  we  discover  the  cause  of  this  agreement  except 
in  the  Lord's  good  pleasure,  and  the  harmlessness  and  meek- 
ness of  the  doctrine  we  profess?"! 

Charity  and  unity  were  there — but  not  uniformity.  Zwin- 
gle,  in  his  "  Coinmentary  on  true  and  false  religion^''\  which 
he  dedicated  to  Francis  the  First,  in  March,  1525,  the  year 
of  the  battle  of  Pavia.  had  stated  some  truths  in  a  manner  that 
seemed  adapted  to  recommend  them  to  human  reason,  follow- 
ing in  that  respect  the  example  of  several  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished among  the  scholastic  theologians.  In  this  way  he 
had  attached  to  original  corruption  the  appellation  of  a  disease, 
reserving  the  name  of  sin  for  the  actual  violation  of  law.^ 
But  these  statements,  though  they  gave  rise  to  some  objec- 
tions, yet  occasioned  no  breach  of  brotherly  charity;  for 
Zwingle,  while  he  persisted  in  calling  original  sin  a  disease, 
added,  by  that  disease,  all  men  were  ruined,  and  that  the  sole 
remedy  was  in  Jesus  Christ.  1|  Here  then  was  no  taint  of 
Pelagian  error. 

But  whilst  in  Zurich  the  celebration  of  the  sacrament  was 
followed  by  the   re-establishment  of  Christian  brotherhood, 

*  Expositio  fidei.     (Zw.  0pp.  ii.  p.  241.) 

t  Ut  tranquillitatis  et  innocentiae  studiosos  reddat.  (Zw.  Epp.  p.  390.) 
}  De  vera  et  falsa  religione  commentarius.  (Zw.  0pp.  iii.  p.  145,  325.) 
§  Peccatum  ergo   morbiis   est  cognatus   nobis,  quo   fugimus   aspera 

et  gravia,    sectamur   jucunda  et   voluptuosa:    secundo  loco   accipitur 

peccatum  pro  eo  quod  contra  legem  fit.     (Ibid.  p.  204.) 

II  Originali    morbo    perdimur    omnes ;     remedio   vero    quod    contra 

ipsum  invenit   Deus,  incolumitati  restituimur.      (De   peccato   originali 

declaratio  ad  Urbanuni   Rhegium.     (Ibid.  p.  632.) 


ATTACK    UPON    ZvVINGLE.  275 

Zwingle  and  his  friends  had  to  sustain  a  harder  struggle  than 
ever  against  their  adversaries  without.  Zwingle  was  not 
only  a  Christian  teacher,  he  was  a  true  patriot  also  ;  and  we 
know  how  zealously  he  always  opposed  the  capitulations, 
and  foreign  pensions,  and  alliances.  He  was  persuaded  that 
this  extraneous  influence  was  destructive  to  piety,  contri- 
buted to  the  maintenance  of  error,  and  was  a  fruitful  source 
of  civil  discord.  But  his  courageous  protests  on  this  head 
were  destined  to  impede  the  progress  of  the  Reformation.  In 
almost  every  canton,  the  leading  men,  who  received  the 
foreign  pensions,  and  the  officers  under  whose  command  the 
youth  of  Switzerland  were  led  out  to  battle,  were  knit  to- 
gether in  powerful  factions  and  oligarchies,  which  attacked 
the  Reformation,  not  so  much  in  the  spirit  of  religious  ani- 
mosity, as  in  the  belief  that  its  success  would  be  detrimental 
to  their  own  pecuniary  and  political  interests.  They  had  al- 
ready gained  a  triumph  in  Schwitz,  and  that  canton,  in  which 
Zwingle,  Leo  Juda,  and  Oswald  Myconius  had  preached  the 
truth,  and  which  seemed  disposed  to  follow  the  example  of 
Zurich,  had,  on  a  sudden,  renewed  the  mercenary  capitula- 
tions, and  closed  the  door  against  the  Gospel. 

In  Zurich  itself,  a  few  worthless  persons,  instigated  to  mis- 
chief by  foreign  agency,  made  an  attack  upon  Zwingle,  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  throwing  stones  at  his  house,  breaking  the 
windows,  and  calling  aloud  for  "red  haired  Uli,  the  vukure 
of  Glaris," — so  that  Zwingle  started  from  his  sleep,  and  caught 
up  his  sword.*     The  action  is  characteristic  of  the  man. 

But  these  desultory  assaults  could  not  counteract  the  im- 
pulse by  which  Zurich  Avas  carried  onward,  and  which  was 
beginning  to  vibrate  throughout  the  whole  of  Switzerland. 
They  were  like  pebbles  thrown  to  check  the  course  of  a  tor- 
rent. The  waters  of  the  torrent  meanwhile  were  swelling,  and 
the  mightiest  of  its  obstacles  were  likely  soon  to  be  swept  a  way. 

The  people  of  Berne  having  intimated  to  the  citizens  of 
Zurich,  that  several  of  the  cantons  had  refused  to  sit  with 
them  any  longer  in  the  Diet : — "  Well,"  replied  the  men  of 

*  Interea  surgere  Zuinglius  ad  ensem  suum.     (Zw.  0pp.  iii.  p-  411.) 


276  THE    GOSPEL    AT    BERNE. 

Zurich,  with  calm  dignity,  raising  (as  in  times  past  the.  men 
of  Rutli  had  done)  their  hands  towards  heaven,  "  we  are  per- 
suaded that  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  in  whose 
name  the  Confederation  has  been  formed,  will  not  forsake  us, 
and  will,  at  last,  in  his  mercy,  make  us  to  sit  at  the  right 
hand  of  His  majesty."* 

With  such  a  faithful  spirit,  there  was  "nothing  to  fear  for 
the  Reformation.  But  would  it  make  similar  progress  in  the 
other  states  of  the  Confederation  ?  Might  not  Zurich  be  single 
on  the  side  of  the  word  of  God  ?  Berne,  Basle,  and  other 
cantons,  would  they  remain  in  their  subjection  to  Rome?  It 
is  this  we  are  now  to  see.  Let  us  then  turn  towards  Berne, 
and  contemplate  the  march  of  the  Reformation  in  the  most 
influential  of  the  confederated  states. 

No  where  was  the  contest  likely  to  be  so  sharp  as  at  Berne, 
for  the  Gospel  had  there  both  powerful  friends  and  determined 
opponents.  At  the  head  of  the  reforming  party  was  the 
banneret  John  Weingarten.  Bartholomew  May,  member  of  the 
lesser  Council,  his  sons,  Wolfgang  and  Claudius,  his  grand- 
sons, James  and  Benedict,  and,  above  all,  the  family  of  the 
Wattevilles.  James  Watte ville,  the  magistrate,  who,  since 
1512,  had  presided  over  the  republic,  had  read  the  writings 
of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  at  the  time  of  their  publication,  and 
had  often  conversed  concerning  the  Gospel  with  John  Haller, 
pastor  at  Anseltingen,  whom  he  had  protected  from  his 
persecutors. 

His  son,  Nicholas,  then  thirty-one  years  of  age,  had,  for 
two  years,  filled  the  office  of  provost  in  the  church  of  Berne ; 
and,  as  such,  by  virtue  of  papal  ordinances,  enjoyed  distin- 
guished privileges ;  so  that,  Berthold  Haller,  in  speaking  of 
him,  would  call  him  "our  Bishop."! 

The  prelates  and  the  Pope  used  every  effort  to  bind  him  to 
the  interests  of  Rome,|  and  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was 

*  Bey  ihm  zuletzt  sitzen.     (Kirchhofer.  Ref.  v.  Bern.  p.  55.) 

t  Episoepus  noster   VadivilUus.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  285.) 

X  Tantum  favoris  et  amicitiae  quse  tibi  cum  tanto  summorum  pon- 
tificum  et  potentissimorum  episcoporum  ccetu  hactenus  intercessit. 
(Zw.  0pp.  i.  ed.  lat.  p.  305.) 


HEIM    AND    HALLER.  277 

placed,  seemed  likely  to  keep  him  from  the  knowledge  of  the 
Gospel;  but  the  workings  of  God's  Spirit  were  more  power- 
ful than  the  flatteries  of  man.  "  Watteville,"  says  Zwingle,* 
"was  turned  from  darkness  to  the  sweet  h'ght  of  the  Gospel." 
As  the  friend  of  Berthold  Haller,  he  was  accustomed  to  read 
the  letters  which  he  received  from  Zwingle,  for  whom  he 
expressed  the  highest  admiration. f 

It  was  natural  to  suppose  that  the  influence  of  the  two 
Wattevilles,  the  one  being  at  the  head  of  the  state,  and  the 
other  of  the  church,  would  draw  after  it  the  republic  over 
which  they  presided.  But  the  opposite  party  was  scarcely 
less  powerful. 

Among  its  chiefs  were  the  schultheiss  of  Erlach,  the  ban- 
neret Willading,  and  many  persons  of  high  family,  whose 
interests  were  identified  with  those  of  the  convents  placed 
under  their  administration.  Backing  these  influential  leaders 
was  an  ignorant  and  corrupted  clergy,  who  went  the  length 
of  calling  Gospel  truth,  "  an  invention  of  hell."  "  Beloved 
colleagues,"  said  the  counsellor  of  Mullinen,  at  a  full  confer- 
ence, held  in  the  month  of  July,  "be  on  your  guard,  lest  thivS 
Reformation  should  creep  in  upon  us.  There  is  no  safety  at 
Zurich  in  one's  own  house:  people  are  obliged  to  have 
soldiers  to  guard  them."  In  consequence,  they  invited  to 
Berne  the  lecturer  of  the  Dominicans  at  Mentz,  John  Heim, 
who,  taking  his  stand  in  the  pulpit,  poured  forth  all  the  elo- 
quence of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  against  the  Reformation.  J 

Thus,  then,  the  two  parties  were  in  presence  of  each  other ; 
a  struggle  seemed  inevitable,  but  already  there  were  mdica- 
tions  with  whom  the  victory  would  remain.  In  fact,  a  com- 
mon faith  united  a  part  of  the  people  to  those  distinguished 
families  who  espoused  the  Reformation.  Berthold  Haller 
exclaimed,  full  of  confidence  in  the  future,  "  Unless,  indeed, 

*  Ex  obscuris  ignorantiae  tenebris  in  amoenam  Evangelii  lucem 
productum.     (Zw.  0pp.  i.  ed.  lat.  p.  305.) 

t  Epistola.s  tusB  et  eruditionis  et  humanitatis  testes  locupletissimas. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  287.) 

J  Suo  Thomistico  Marte  omnia  invertere.    (Ibid.) 
VOL.  III.  24 


278  ORDINANCE    OF    THE    GOVERNMENT. 

the  wrath  of  God  should  show  itself  against  us,  it  is  not  possi- 
ble that  the  word  of  the  Lord  should  be  banished  from  the 
city,  for  the  Bernese  are  hungering  after  it."* 

Two  acts  of  the  government  soon  appeared  to  incline  the 
balance  in  favour  of  the  new  opinions.  The  Bishop  of  Lau- 
sanne had  given  notice  of  an  episcopal  visitation ;  the  Council 
sent  a  message  to  him  by  the  provost,  Watteville,  desiring 
him  to  austain  from  it.f  And,  in  the  mean  time,  the  govern- 
ment put  forth  an  ordinance,  which,  whilst  in  appearance  it 
left  the  enemies  of  the  truth  in  possession  of  some  of  their 
advantages,  at  the  same  time  sanctioned  the  principles  on 
which  the  Reformation  was  founded.  They  directed  that  the 
ministers  should  preach,  clear  of  all  additions, — freely  and 
openly, — the  Gospel  and  the  doctrine  of  God,  as  it  is  found  in 
the  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments ;  and  that  they 
should  not  allude  to  any  doctrine,  disputation,  or  writing 
coming  from  Luther  or  other  teachers.J 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  en-'mies  of  the  truth,  when 
they  saw  the  ministers  of  the  Gospel  appealing  with  confi- 
dence to  this  decree.  This  ordinance,  which  was  to  furnish 
the  ground  for  all  those  that  succeeded,  was,  legally  speaking, 
the  commencement  of  the  Reformation  at  Berne.  From  that 
time,  there  was  more  decision  in  the  progress  of  this  canton; 
and  Zvvingle,  who  attentively  observed  all  that  was  passing  in 
Switzerland,  was  able  to  write  to  the  provost  de  Watteville, 
"  Christians  are  all  exulting  on  account  of  the  faith  which  the 
pious  city  of  Berne  has  just  received."^  "  The  cause  is  that 
of  Christ,"  exclaimed  the  friends  of  the  Gospel,  and  they 
exerted  themselves  to  advance  it  with  increased  confidence.  j| 
The  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  alarmed  at  these  first  advan- 

*  Famem  verbi  Bernates  habenc.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  295.) 

t  Ut  nee  oppidum,  nee  pagos  Bernatuin  visitare  praetendat  omnLno. 
(Ibid,) 

i  Aleim  das  heilig  Evangelium  und  die  leer  Gottes  frey,  offentlich 
und  unverborgen.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  HI.) 

§  Alle   Christen   sich   allenthalben    frouwend    des   Glaubens 

(Zw.  0pp.  i.  p.  426.) 

II  Christi  negotium  agitur.     (Zw.  Epp.  9th  May,  1523.) 


ST.  Michael's  nunnery.  279 

tages,  closed  their  ranks,  and  resolved  on  striking  a  blow 
which  should  ensure  victory  on  their  side.  They  conceived 
the  project  of  getting  rid  of  those  ministers  whose  bold  preach- 
ing was  turning  all  the  ancient  customs  upside  down;  and  a 
favourable  occasion  was  not  long  wanting.  There  was,  at 
Berne,  in  the  place  where  now  stands  the  hospital  de  I'lle,  a 
convent  of  nuns  of  the  Dominican  order,  consecrated  to  St. 
Michael.  St.  Michael's  day,  (29th  of  September,)  ^■/as  always 
a  solemn  festival  to  the  inmates  of  the  nunnery.  On  this 
anniversary,  many  of  the  clergy  were  present,  and,  among 
others,  Wittembach  de  Bienne,  Sebastian  Meyer,  and  Berthold 
Haller.  This  latter,  having  entered  into  conversation  with 
the  nuns,  among  whom  was  Clara,  the  daughter  of  Claudius 
May,  (one  of  those  who  maintained  the  new  doctrines,)  he 
remarked  to  her,  in  the  presence  of  her  grandmother,  "the 
merits  of  the  monastic  state  are  but  imaginary,  whilst  mar- 
riage is  honourable,  and  instituted  by  God  himself"  Some 
nuns,  to  whom  Clara  related  this  conversation  of  Berthold, 
received  it  with  outcries.  It  was  soon  rumoured  in  -the  city 
that  Haller  had  asserted  that  "  the  nuns  were  all  children  of 
the  devil."  The  opportunity  that  the  enemies  of  the  Refor- 
mation had  waited  for,  was  now  arrived ;  and  they  presented 
themselves  before  the  lesser  Council.  Referring  to  an  ancient 
law,  which  enacted  that  whosoever  should  carry  off  a  nun 
from  her  convent  should  lose  his  head,  they  proposed  that  the 
"  sentence  should  be  mitigated"  so  far,  as  that,  without  hearing 
the  three  accused  ministers  in  their  defence,  they  should  be 
banished  for  life !  The  lesser  Council  granted  the  petition,  and 
the  matter  was  immediately  carried  to  the  grand  Council, 

Thus,  then,  Berne  was  threatened  with  the  loss  of  her  Re- 
formers. The  intrigues  of  the  Popish  party  seemed  successful. 
But  Rome,  triumphant  when  she  played  her  game  with  the 
higher  orders,  was  beaten  when  she  had  to  do  with  the  people 
or  their  representatives.  Hardly  were  the  names  of  Haller, 
of  Meyer,  of  Wittembach — those  names  held  in  veneration  by 
all  the  Swiss, — pronounced  in  the  grand  Council,  before  an 
energetic  opposiiioji  was  manifested  against  the  Jesser  Council 


280  THE    CONVENT    OF    KONIGSFELP. 

and  the  clergy.  "  We  cannot."  said  Tillman,  "condemn  the 
accused  unheard  !  .  .  .  Surely  their  own  testimony  may  be  re- 
ceived against  that  of  a  few  women."  The  ministers  were 
called  up.  There  seemed  no  way  of  settling  matters.  "  Let 
us  admit  the  statements  of  both  parties,"  said  Pohn  Weingart- 
en.  They  did  so,  and  discharged  the  accu&ed  ministers, — at 
the  same  time  desiring  them  to  confine  themselves  to  the  duties 
of  their  pulpits,  and  not  to  trouble  themselves  concerning  the 
cloisters.  But  the  pulpit  was  all  they  wanted  :  their  accusers 
had  taken  nothing  by  their  motion.  It  was  counted  a  great 
victory  gained  by  the  Reforming  party,  insomuch  that  one  of 
the  leading  men  exclaimed,  "  It  is  all  over  now — Luther's 
work  must  go  forward."* 

And  go  forward  it  did, — and  that  in  places  where  it  could  lea&t 
have  been  expected.  At  Konigsfeld  upon  the  river  Aar,  near 
the  castle  of  Hapsburg,  stood  a  monastery  adorned  with  all 
the  magnificence  of  the  middle  ages,  and  in  which  reposed  the 
ashes  of  many  of  that  illustrious  house  which  had  so  often 
given  an  Emperor  to  Germany.  To  this  place  the  noble  fami- 
lies of  Switzerland  and  of  Suabia  used  to  send  their  daughters 
to  lake  the  veil.  It  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of  this  convent 
that  the  Emperor  Albert  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  his  nephew, 
John  of  Suabia,  on  the  1st  of  May,  1308;  and  the  beautiful 
stained  windows  of  the  church  at  Konigsfeld  represented  the 
horrible  tortures  which  had  been  inflicted  upon  the  relations 
and  dependants  of  the  piepetrators  of  the  murder.  Catherine  of 
Waldburg-Truchsess,  abbess  of  the  convent  at  the  period  of 
the  Reformation,  numbered  among  her  nuns  Beatrice  Landen- 
berg,  sister  of  the  Bishop  of  Constance,  Agnes  Mullinen, 
Catherine  Bonnstetten,  and  Margaret  Watteville,  sister  of  the 
provost.  The  liberty  enjoyed  in  this  convent,  a  liberty  which 
in  earlier  times  had  given  occasion  to  scandalous  disorders, 
had  favoured  the  introduction  not  only  of  the  Bible,  but  of  the 
writings  of  Luther  and  Zwingle ;  and  soon  a  new  spring  of 

♦  Es  ist  nun  gethan.  Der  Lutlierische  Handel  muss  vorjffeheix. 
fAnshelm.  Wirtz.  K.  G.  V.  p.  200.;) 


MARGARET  WATTEVILLe's  LETTER.        281 

life  and  joy  chang-ed  the  aspect  of  its  interior.  Nigh  to  that 
cell  to  which  Queen  Agnes,  daughter  of  Albert,  had  retired, 
after  bathing  in  torrents  of  blood  "  as  in  Maydews;"  and 
where,  dividing  her  time  between  spinning  wool  and  embroi- 
dering tapestry  for  the  church,  she  had  mingled  thoughts  of 
vengeance  with  devotional  exercises, — Margaret  Watteville  had 
only  thoughts  of  peace,-^— read  the  Scriptures, — and  found  time, 
in  her  spare  moments,  to  compound,  of  certain  salutary  ingre- 
dients, an  excellent  electuary.  Retiring  to  her  cell,  the  youth- 
ful nun  took  courage  to  write  to  the  Reformer  of  Switzerland. 
Her  letter  discovers  to  us,  better  than  any  reflections  could  do, 
the  Christian  spirit  which  existed  among  those  pious  women, 
I — still,  even  in  our  days,  so  much  calumniated. 

''  Grace  and  peace,  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  be  given  and 
multiplied  towards  you  always,  by  God  our  heavenly  Father," 
was  the  language  of  the  nun  of  Konigsfeld  to  Zwingle: 
"  Very  learned,  reverend,  and  most  dear  Sir,  I  pray  you  to 
take  in  good  part  this  letter  which  I  now  address  to  you.  The 
love  of  Christ  constrains  me  ; — especially  since  I.  have  learned 
that  the  doctrines  of  grace  are  spreading  from  day  to  day 
through  your  preaching  of  the  word  of  God.  For  this  cause 
I  give  thanks  to  the  Eternal  God,  for  that  he  has  enlightened 
us  anew,  and  has  sent  us,  by  His  Holy  Spirit,  so  many  heralds 
of  His  blessed  word ;  and  at  the  same  time  I  present  before 
him  my  earnest  prayers,  that  He  will  be  pleased  to  clothe  with 
His  strength,  both  you  and  all  those  who  publish  His  glad 
tidings, — and  that  arming  you  against  all  enemies  of  the  truth, 
He  will  cause  His  Divine  Word  to  grow  in  all  men.  Most 
learned  Sir,  I  take  the  liberty  of  sending  to  your  reverence 
this  little  mark  of  my  affection  ;  I  pray  you  do  not  despise  it, 
for  it  is  an  offering  of  Christian  love.  If  this  electuary  should 
be  useful  to  you,  and  you  should  wish  to  have  more,  pray  let 
me  know,  for  it  would  be  a  joy  to  my  heart  to  do  anything 
that  would  be  agreeable  to  you.  I  am  writing  not  my  own 
feelings  only,  but  those  of  all  in  our  convent  of  Konigsfeld 
who  love  the  Gospel.     They  salute  you  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 

24* 


282  LIBERATION    OF    THE    NUNS. 

we  together  cease  not  to  commend  you  to  His  Almighty  pro- 
tection.* 

"  Saturday  before  Lcdare^  1523." 

Such  was  the  pious  letter  which  the  nun  of  Konigsfeld 
wrote  to  the  Reformer  of  Switzerland. 

A  convent  into  which  the  light  of  the  Gospel  had  pene- 
trated in  such  power,  could  not  long  continue  to  adhere  to 
monastic  observances.  Margaret  Watteville  and  her  sisters, 
persuaded  that  they  should  better  serve  God  in  their  families 
than  in  a  cloister,  solicited  permission  to  leave  it.  The  Coun- 
cil of  Berne,  in  some  alarm,  took  measures  to  bring  the  nuns 
to  reason,  and  the  provincial  and  abbess  alternately  tried 
promises  and  threats,  but  the  sisters,  Margaret,  Agnes,  and 
Catherine,  and  their  friends,  could  not  be  dissuaded.  On  this, 
the  discipline  of  the  convent  was  relaxed, — the  nuns  being  ex- 
empted from  fasting  and  matins,  and  their  allowance  increased. 
"We  desire,"  said  they,  in  reply  to  the  Council,  "not  'the 
liberty  of  thejlesh^^  but  that  of  the  spirit.  We,  your  poor,  un- 
offending prisoners,  beseech  you  to  take  compassion  on  us." — 
"  Our  prisoners !  our  prisoners,"  exclaimed  the  banneret, 
Krauchthaler ;  "  /  have  no  wish  to  detain  them  prisoners  I" 
This  speech,  coming  from  a  firm  defender  of  the  convents, 
decided  the  Council.  The  gates  were  opened  ;  and  a  short 
time  afterwards  Catherine  Bonnstetten  married  William  von 
Diesbach. 

Nevertheless,  Berne,  instead  of  openly  taking  part  with 
the  Reformation,  did  but  hold  a  middle  course,  and  pursue  a 
system  of  vacillation.  An  incident  soon  occurred  which  made 
this  apparent.  Sebastian  Meyer,  lecturer  of  the  Franciscans, 
put  forth  a  recantation  of  Romish  errors,  which  produced  an 
immense  sensation  ;  and,  in  which,  depicting  the  condition  of 
the  inmates  of  convents,  he  said,  "  The  living  in  them  is  more 
impure,  the  falls  more  frequent,  the  recoveries  more  tardy, 
the  habitual  walk  more  unsteady,  the  moral  slumber  in  them 
more  dangerous,  the  grace  toward  offenders  more  rare,  and 

*  Cujus  prsesidio  auxilioque  praesentissimo,  nos  vestram  dignita- 
tem  assidue  commendamus.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  280.) 


PRETENDED  LETTER  OF  ZWINGLE.        283 

the  cleansing  from  sin  more  slow,  the  death  more  despairing, 
and  the  condemnation  more  severe."*  At  the  very  time  when 
Meyer  was  thus  declarmg-  himself  against  the  cloisters,  John 
Heirn,  lecturer  of  the  Dominicans,  exclaimed  from  the  pulpit, 
"  No  !  Christ  has  not,  as  the  Evangelicals  tell  us,  made  satis- 
faction once  for  all,  to  his  Father.  God  must  still  further 
every  day  be  reconciled  to  men  by  good  Avorks  and  the  sacri- 
fice of  the  mass."  Two  burghers,  who  happened  to  be  in  the 
church,  interrupted  him  with  the  words,  "  That's  not  true." 
The  interruption  caused  a  great  disturbance  in  the  church  ; 
and  Heim  remained  silent.  Some  pressed  him  to  go  on  ;  but 
he  left  the  pulpit  without  finishing  his  sermon.  The  next  day 
the  Grand  Council  struck  a  blow  at  once  against  Rome  and 
the  Reformation  !  They  banished  from  the  city  the  two  lead- 
ing controversialists,  Meyer  and  Heirn.  It  was  remarked  of 
the  Bernese,  "  They  are  neither  clear  nor  muddy," f — taking 
in  a  double  sense  the  name  of  Luther,  which  in  old  German 
signified  clea?:^ 

*  Langsamer  gereinigetj  verzweifelter  stirbt,  barter  verdammet. 
(Kirchhofer  Reform,  v.  Bern,  p.  48.) 

t  Dass  sie  weder  luther  noch  triib  seyen.     (Ibid.  p.  50.) 

t  Romish  writers,  and  particularly  M.  de  Haller,  have  mentioned,  fol- 
lowing Salat  and  Tschudi,  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  a  pretended  let- 
ter of  Zwingle,  addressed,  at  this  juncture,  to  Kolb  at  Berne.  It  is  as 
follows: — "Health  and  blessing  from  God  our  Saviour.  Dear  Francis, 
move  gently  in  the  matter.  At  first  only  throw  one  sour  pear  to  the 
bear,  amongst  a  great  many  sweet  ones;  afterwards  two,  then  three;  and 
as  soon  as  he  begins  to  eat  them,  throw  more  and  more, — sweet  and  bit- 
ter all  together.  Empty  the  sack  entirely.  Soft,  hard,  sweet,  bitter,  he 
will  eat  them  all,  and  will  no  longer  allow  either  that  they  be  taken,  or 
he  driven  away. — Zurich,  Monday  before  St.  George,  1525. 

"Your  ser\ant  in  Christ,  Ulrich  Zwingle." 

We  can  oppose  convincing  arguments  against  the  authenticity  of  this 
letter.  First, — In  1525,  Kolb  was  pastor  at  Wertheimer.  He  did  not 
come  to  Berne  until  1527. — (See  Zw.  Epp.  526.)  M.  de  Haller  substi- 
tutes, indeed,  but  quite  arbitrarily,  1527  for  1525.  This  correction, 
doubtless,  had  its  object;  but,  unfortunately,  in  making  it,  M.  de  Haller 
puts  himself  in  direct  contradiction  of  Salut  and  Tschudi,  who,  though 
they  do  not  agree  as  to  the  day  on  which  this  letter  was  mentioned 
in  the  diet,  agree  as  the  year,  which,  with  both,  is  clearly  1525.     Sec- 


284  CLARA    MAY    AXD    NICHOLAS    WATTEVILLE. 

But  it  was  in  vain  to  attempt  to  smother  the  Reformation 
at  Berne.  It  made  progress  on  all  sides.  The  nuns  of  the 
convent  de  File  had  not  forgotten  Haller's  visit.  Clara  May, 
and  many  of  her  friends,  pressed  in  their  consciences  to  know 
what  to  do,  wrote  to  the  learned  Henry  Bullinger.  In  an- 
swer, he  said,  "  Saint  Paul  enjoins  young  women  not  to  take 
upon  them  vows,  but  to  marry,  instead  of  living  in  idleness, 
under  a  false  show  of  piety.  (I  Tim.  v,  13,  14.)  Follow 
Jesus  in  humility,  charity,  patience,  purity,  and  kindness."* 
Clara,  looking  to  heaven  for  guidance,  resolved  to  act  on  the 
advice,  and  renounce  a  manner  of  life  at  variance  with  the 
word  of  God, — of  man's  invention, — and  beset  with  snares. 
Her  grandfather  Bartholomew,  who  had  served  for  fifty  years 
in  the  field  and  the  council-hall,  heard  with  joy  of  the  resolu- 
tion she  had  formed.      Clara  quitted  the  convent. 

The  provost,  Nicholas  Watteville,  connected  by  strong  ties 
of  interest  to  the  Roman  hierarchy,  and  who  was  to  have  been 
nominated  to  the  first  vacant  bishopric  in  Switzerland,  also 
gave  up  his  titles,  revenues,  and  expectations,  that  he  might 
keep  a  clear  conscience ;  and,  breaking  through  all  the  en- 

onilly, — There  is  no  agreement  as  to  the  way  in  which  the  letter  itself  got 
abroad.  According  to  one  account,  it  was  intercepted ;  another  version 
tells  us  that  Kolb's  parishioners  communicated  it  to  an  inhabitant  of  the 
small  cantons,  who  happened  to  be  at  Berne.  Thirdly, — The  original  is 
in  German.  Now  Zwingle  wrote  always  in  Latin  to  his  friends  who 
could  understand  that  language:  moreover,  he  used  to  salute  them  as 
brother^  and  not  as  servant.  Fourthly, — In  reading  Zwingle's  corres- 
pondence it  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  that  his  style  is  quite  different 
from  that  of  the  pretended  letter.  Zwingle  never  would  have  written  a  let- 
ter to  say  solittle.  His  letters  in  general  are  long  and  full  of  news.  To  call 
the  little  jeu  d'esprit  picked  up  by  Salat  a  letter,  is  but  trifling.  Fifthly, 
— Salat  deserves  but  little  confidence  as  an  historian ;  and  Tschudi  ap- 
pears to  have  copied  him,  with  a  few  variations.  Possibly  a  man  of  the 
small  cantons  may  have  had  communication,  from  some  inhabitant  of 
Berne,  of  the  latter  from  Zwingle  to  Haller,  which  we  have  before  men- 
tioned, (see  vol.  ii.,)  wherein  Zwingle  employs,  with  a  good  deal  of  dig- 
nity, the  comparison  of  the  bears, — which  is  found  in  all  authors  of  that 
age.  This  may  have  given  the  idea  to  some  wit  to  invent  this  letter 
which  has  been  supposed  to  have  passed  from  Zwingle  to  Kolb. 

*  Euerem  Herrn  Jesu  nachfolget  in  Demuth,     (Kirchh.  Ref.  v.  B.  60.^ 


THE    SEAT    OF    LEARNING.  285- 

tanglements  in  which  the  popes  had  sought  to  bind  him,  he 
too  entered  into  that  state,  which  had  been,  from  the  begin- 
ning, instituted  by  God.  Nicholas  Watteville  took  to  wife 
Clara  May ;  and  his  sister  Margaret,  the  nun  of  Kdnigsfeld, 
was,  about  the  same  time,  united  to  Lucius  Tscharner  of 
Coira.* 

Everything  gave  intimation  of  the  victory  which  the  Re- 
formation would  soon  obtain  at  Berne.  A  city  not  less  im- 
portant, and  which  then  ranked  as  the  Athens  of  Switzerland 
— Basle,  was  also  beginning  to  take  part  in  the  memorable 
struggle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Each  of  the  cities  of  the  Confederation  had  its  own  peculiar 
character.  Berne  was  distinguished  as  the  place  of  residence 
of  the  chief  families ;  and  the  question  was  one  that  seemed 
likely  to  be  decided  by  the  part  taken  by  certain  of  the  leading 
nobles.  At  Zurich,  the  ministers  of  the  Word,  such  men  as 
Zwingle,  Leo  Juda,  Myconius,  and  Schmidt,  exercised  a  com- 
manding influence  over  a  powerful  middle  class  of  society. 
Lucerne  was  the  city  of  arms, — a  centre  of  military  organiza- 
tion. Basle  was  the  seat  of  learning,  and  its  accompaniment, 
— printing-presses.  Erasmus,  the  acknowledged  head  of  the 
republic  of  letters  in  the  sixteenth  century,  had  there  fixed  his 
residence,  and,  preferring  the  liberty  it  afforded  him  to  the 
flattering  in  vita  lions  of  popes  and  kings,  he  had  become  a 
centre  of  attraction  to  a  concourse  of  men  of  learning. 

However,  a  man  inferior  to  Erasmus  in  natural  genius,  but 
humble,  gentle,  and  pious,  was,  ere  long,  to  exercise,  in  that 
very  city,  an  influence  more  powerful  than  that  possessed  by 
this  prince  of  scholars.  Christopher  von  Utenheim,  bishop  of 
Basle,  who  agreed  in  judgment  with  Erasmus,  sought  to  sur- 
round himself  with  men  disposed  to  co-operate  in  a  sort  of 
half-way  Reformation.  W'th  this  view  he  had  called  to  his 
aid  Capito  and  QEcolampadius.  The  latter  had  a  something 
savouring  of  monkery  in  his  habit  of  mind,  and  this  often 
clashed  with  the  vieAvs  of  the  philosopher.     QEcolampadius, 

*  Zw.  Epp.  annotatio,  p.  451.  It  is  from  this  union  that  the 
Tscharners  of  Berne  derive  their  descent. 


2S6  (ECOLAMPADIUS. 

however,  on  his  part,  soon  became  enthusiastically  attached  to 
Erasmus ;  and  it  is  probable  he  would  have  lost  all  independ- 
ence of  mind  in  this  intimacy,  if  Providence  had  not  separated 
him  from  his  idol.  He  returned,  in  1517,  to  his  native  city, 
Weinsberg.  Here  he  was  disgusted  with  the  disorders  and 
the  profanity  which  prevailed  among  the  priests ;  and  he  has 
left  a  noble  record  of  the  serious  spirit  which  from  that  time 
actuated  him,  in  his  work  entitled  '•  The  Humours  of  Easter," 
which  appears  to  have  been  written  about  this  period.* 

Called  to  Augsburg,  towards  the  end  of  1518,  to  fill  the 
post  of  preacher  in  its  cathedral,  he  found  that  city  still  under 
the  effects  of  the  memorable  discussion  which  had  been  held 
there,  in  the  previous  May,  between  Luther  and  the  Pope's 
legate.  It  was  necessary  that  he  should  choose  his  side,  and 
CEcolampadius  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  himself  on  the  side 
of  the  Reformer.  Such  candour  on  his  part  soon  drew  down 
upon  him  much  opposition,  and  being  convinced  that  his  natu- 
ral timidity,  and  the  feebleness  of  his  voice,  rendered  it  impos- 
sible for  him  to  succeed  in  public,  he  looked  around  him  for 
a  place  of  retreat,  and  his  thoughts  rested  on  a  convent  of 
monks  of  Saint  Bridget,  near  Augsburg,  renowned  for  the 
piety,  as  well  as  for  the  profound  and  liberal  studies  of  its 
monks.  Feeling  the  need  of  repose,  of  leisure,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  of  quiet  occupation  and  prayer,  he  addressed  him- 
self to  this  community,  and  inquired,  "  Can  I  live  in  your  con- 
vent according  to  the  word  of  God  ?"  The  answer  being  in 
the  affirmative,  CEcolampadius  entered  its  gates  on  the  23d 
April,  1520,  having  expressly  stipulated  that  he  should  be  free, 
if  ever  the  ministry  of  the  word  of  God  should  require  his  ser- 
vice elsewhere. 

It  Avas  well  that  the  Reformer  of  Basle  should,  like  Luther, 
become  acquainted  with  that  monastic  life,  which  presented 
the  fullest  exhibition  of  the  working  of  Roman  Catholicism. 
But  rest  was  what  he  could  not  find  there  ;  his  friends  blamed 
the  step ;  and  he  himself  declared  frankly  that  Luther  was 
nearer  to  the  truth  than  his  adversaries.  No  wonder,  there- 
♦  Kerzog.  Studien  und  Kritiken,  1840.  p.  334, 


FLIGHT    FROM    THE    CONVENT.  287 

fore,  that  Eck  and  other  Romish  doctors  pursued  him  with 
menaces  even  in  this  his  quiet  retreat. 

At  the  time  we  are  recording,  QEcoIampadius  was  neither 
one  of  the  Reformed,  nor  yet  a  blind  follower  of  Rome ;  what 
he  most  desired  was  a  sort  of  purified  Catholicism,  which  is 
no  where  to  be  found  in  history, — but  the  idea  of  which  has, 
to  many,  served  as  a  bridge  of  passage  to  better  things.  He 
set  himself  to  correct,"  by  reference  to  the  word  of  God,  the 
statutes  of  his  order.  "  I  conjure  you,"  said  he,  to  the  confra- 
ternity, "  not  to  think  more  highly  of  your  statutes,  than  of  the 
ordinances  and  commandments  of  the  Lord."  "  We  have  no 
wish,"  replied  his  brethren,  "  for  other  rules  than  those  of  the 
Saviour.  Take  our  books,  and  mark,  as  in  the  presence  of 
Christ  himself,  whatever  you  find  therein  contrary  to  his 
word."  CEcolampadius  began  the  task  imposed  ;  but  he  was 
almost  wearied  by  it.  "  O  Almighty  God  !"  he  exclaimed 
"  what  abominations  has  not  Rome  sanctioned  in  these  statutes." 

Hardly  had  he  pointed  out  some  of  them,  when  the  anger 
of  the  fraternity  was  aroused.  "  Thou  heretic — thou  apos- 
tate," was  their  cry,  "  thou  deservest  to  be  thrown  into  a  lone- 
some dungeon  for  the  rest  of  thy  days."  They  would  not 
allow  him  to  come  to  prayers.  Meanwhile,  outside  the  walls, 
still  greater  danger  awaited  him.  Eck,  and  his  party,  had 
not  relinquished  their  schemes.  "  In  three  days,"  it  was  told 
him,  "they  will  be  here  to  arrest  you"  "  Do  you  intend," 
asked  he,  "  to  deliver  me  up  to  assassins  ?"  The  monks  were 
silent  and  irresolute  .  .  . ;  neither  willing  to  save  him,  nor 
yet  to  give  him  up.  At  this  juncture,  some  friends  of  CEcolam- 
padius approached  the  convent,  bringing  with  them  horses  to 
conduct  him  to  a  place  of  safety.  At  the  news,  the  monks  de- 
cided to  allow  the  departure  of  one  who  had  brought  the  seeds 
of  trouble  into  their  convent.  ^^  Farewell,''^  said  he.  Behold 
him  at  liberty  ! 

He  had  remained  nearly  two  years  in  the  convent  of  Saint 
Bridget. 

CEcolampadius  was  saved — he  began  to  breathe.  "  I  have 
sacrificed  the  monk,"  said  he,  writing  to  a  friend,  "  and  have 


288  (ECOLAMPADIUS    AT    BASLE. 

regained  the  Christian."  But  his  flight  from  the  convent,  and 
his  heretical  writings  were  everywhere  proclaimed.  People 
on  all  sides  drew  back  at  his  approach.  He  knew  not  which 
way  to  turn,  when  Sickingen  oflered  him  an  asylum.  This 
was  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1522.      He  accepted  it. 

His  mind,  oppressed  during  his  confinement  within  the 
monastery,  recovered  its  elasticity  amongst  the  noble  warriors 
of  Ebernburg.  "  Christ  is  our  liberty!"  burst  from  his  lips, 
"  and  that  which  men  consider  as  their  greatest  misfortune, — 
death  itself, — is  for  us  a  real  gain."  He  directly  commenced 
reading  to  the  people  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  in  German. 
"  No  sooner  will  these  trumpets  sound  abroad,"  said  he,  "  than 
the  walls  of  Jericho  will  crumble  to  the  ground." 

Thus  the  most  humble  man  of  his  time  was  preparing,  in 
a  fortress  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  in  the  midst  of  unpolish- 
ed warriors,  for  that  change  of  worship  which  Christianity 
was  shortly  to  undergo.  Nevertheless,  Ebernburg  was  not  a 
field  large  enough  for  his  plans ;  besides,  he  felt  the  need  of 
other  society  than  such  as  he  was  in  the  midst  of  Cratander, 
the  bookseller,  invited  him  to  take  up  his  abode  at  Basle ; 
Sickingen  offered  no  impediment;  and  CEcolampadius,  glad 
at  the  thought  of  seeing  his  old  friends,  arrived  there  on  the 
16th  November,  1522.  After  having  lived  there  some  time, 
simply  as  a  man  of  learning,  without  any  public  vocation,  he 
was  nominated  vicar  of  the  church  of  St.  Martin,  and  his  ac- 
ceptance of  this  humble  engagement*  perhaps  decided  the 
Reformation  at  Basle.  Whenever  CEcolampadius  was  to 
preach,  a  great  crowd  filled  the  church. f  At  the  same  time, 
the  public  lectures  given  by  him,  and  by  Pellican,  were  crown- 
ed with  so  much  success,  that  Erasmus  himself  felt  constrained 
to  exclaim,  "  CEcolampadius  triumphs  !":|: 

"  In  fact,  this  gentle,  and  firm  man,  says  Zwingle,  "  difl^used, 

*  Meis  sumtibus  non  sine  contemptu  et  invidia.  (CEcol.  ad  Pirckh. 
de  Eucharistia.) 

t  Dass  er  kein  Predigt  thate,  er  hatte  ein  machtig  Volk  darinn, — 
says  Peter  Ryf,  his  contemporary.     (Wirtz.  v.  350.) 

t  CEcolampadius  apud  nos  triumphal.  (Eras,  ad  Zwing.  Zw.  Epp. 
p.  312.) 


JEALOUSY    OP    lERASMUS.  ^^89 

ail  around  him,  the  sweet  savour  of  Christ ;  and  all  who  as- 
sembled about  him  grew  in  the  truth."*  Often  a  report  pre- 
vailed that  he  was  on  the  point  of  being-  obliged  to  quit  Basle, 
and  begin  again  his  hazardous  flights.  On  these  occasions 
his  friends, — and  above  all  Zwingle, — would  be  in  consterna- 
tion ;  but  then  came  tidings  of  fresh  advantages  gained  by 
(Ecolampadius,  dissipating  their  fears,  and  raising  their  hopes. 
The  renown  of  his  labours  spread  even  to  Wittembcrg,  and 
rejoiced  Luther,  who  would  often  talk  with  Melancthon  con- 
cerning him.  But  the  Saxon  Reformer  was  not  without 
anxiety  on  his  account.  Erasmus  was  at  Basle, — and  Eras- 
mus was  the  friend  of  OEcolampadius  .  ,  .  Luther  thought  it 
his  duty  to  put  one  whom  he  loved  on  his  guard.  "  I  fear 
much,"  wrote  he,  "  that,  like  Moses,  Erasmus  will  die  in 
the  country  of  Moab,  and  never  lead  us  into  the  land  of  pro- 
mise."t 

Erasmus  had  retired  to  Basle,  as  to  a  quiet  city,  situated  in 
the  centre  of  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  age, — from  whence, 
by  means  of  the  printing-press  of  Frobenius,  he  could  act 
upon  France,  Germany,  Switzerland,  Italy,  and  England. 
But  he  liked  not  to  be  interfered  with ;  and  if  the  neighbour- 
hood of  CEcolampadius  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to  him, 
another  man  there  was  whose  presence  inspired  him  with  still 
more  appreher'^ion.  Ulric  Hutten  had  followed  GE^^olampa- 
dius  to  Basle.  For  some  time  he  had  been  attacking  the 
Pope,  as  one  knight  tilts  with  another.  "  The  axe,"  said  he, 
*'  is  already  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree.  Faint  not,  my  country- 
men, in  the  heat  of  the  battle  :  the  lot  is  cast ;  the  charge  is 
begun  .  .  .  Hurrah  for  liberty!"  He  laid  aside  the  Latin, 
and  now  wrote  only  in  German ;  for  his  object  was  to  get  at 
the  hearts  of  the  people. 

His  views  were  grand  and  generous.  According  to  his 
plan,  there  was  to  be  a  yearly  meeting  of  bishops,  to  regulate 
the  interests  of  the  church.     Christian  institutions,  and  above 

*  Illi  magis  ac  magis  in  omni  bono  augescunt.  (Eras,  ad  Zwing. 
Zw.  Epp.  p.  312.) 

t  Et  in  terram  promissionis  ducere  non  potest.    (L.  Epp.  ii.  p-  353.) 
VOL.   III.  25 


290  HUTTEN    AND    ERASMUS. 

all,  a  Christian  spirit,  was  to  go  forth  from  Germany,  as 
formerly  from  Judea,  and  spread  through  the  whole  world. 
Charles  V.  was  the  young  hero  destined  to  realise  this  golden 
age;  hut  Hutten's  hopes  having  been  blasted  in  that  quarter, 
he  turned  towards  Sickingen,  and  sought  from  knighthood  that 
which  the  Imperial  authority  refused  him. 

Sickingen,  as  a  leading  chieftain,  had  acted  a  distinguished 
part  in  Germany ;  but  soon  after  the  nobles  had  besieg'^d  him 
in  the  castle  of  Landstein,  and  the  ancient  w^alls  of  that  for- 
tress had  yielded  to  the  strange  power  of  cannon  and  musket- 
ry,— then  only  recently  invented.  The  taking  of  Landstein 
had  been  the  final  defeat  of  the  power  of  the  knights, — the 
triumph  of  the  art  of  modern  warfare  over  that  of  the  middle 
ages.  Thus,  the  last  exploits  of  the  knights  had  been  on  the 
side  of  the  Reformation,  while  the  earliest  use  of  the  newly- 
invented  engines  was  against  it.  The  steel-clad  warriors, 
whose  bodies  fell  beneath  the  unlooked-for  storm  of  balls, 
made  way  for  other  soldiery.  Other  conflicts  were  opening. 
A  spiritual  knighthood  was  taking  the  place  of  the  Du 
Guesclins  and  Bayards;  and  those  battered  ramparts,  broken 
walls,  and  expiring  warriors,  told,  more  plainly  than  Luther 
had  been  able  to  do,  that  it  was  not  by  such  allies  or  such 
weapons  that  the  Gospel  of  the  Prince  of  Peace  was  destined 
to  prevail. 

The  hopes  of  Hutten  had  died  with  the  fall  of  Landstein, 
and  the  ruin  of  the  pov/er  of  the  knights.  As  he  stood  by 
the  corpse  of  his  friend  Sickingen,  he  bade  adieu  to  his  dream 
of  brighter  days  to  come,  and  losing  all  confidence  in  men,  he 
sought  only  for  retirement  and  repose.  In  quest  of  these,  he 
visited  Erasmus  in  Switzerland.  An  early  friendship  had 
subsisted  between  them  ;  but  the  rough  and  overbearing  knight, 
regardless  of  the  opinions  of  others,  quick  to  grasp  the  sword, 
and  dealing  his  blows  on  all  sides,  wherever  he  came,  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  'walk  together'  with  the  fastidious  and 
timid  Erasmus,  with  all  his  refinement,  politeness,  love  of 
praise,  his  readiness  to  sacrifice  all  for  the  sake  of  it,  and  his 
fear,  above  all,  of  controversy. 


DEATH    OF    HUTTEN.  291 

On  his  arrival  at  Basle,  Hutten,  poor,  stiffering  in  bodily 
health,  and  a  fugitive,  immediately  sought  out  his  old  friend. 
But  Erasmus  shrunk  from  the  thought  of  receiving  at  his 
table  a  man  who  was  placed  under  ban  by  the  Pope  and  the 
Emperor, — a  man  who,*  in  his  conversation,  would  spare  no 
one,  and,  besides  borrowing  money  of  him,  would  no  doubt 
be  followed  by  others  of  the  "  Gospel  party,"  whom  Erasmus 
dreaded  more  and  more.  He  declined  to  see  him, — and  the 
magistrates  of  Basle  desired  Hutten  to  leave  the  city.  Wound- 
ed to  the  quick,  and  irritated  by  the  timid  prudence  of  his 
friend,  Hutten  repaired  to  Mulhausen,  and  there  circulated  a 
violent  diatribe  against  Erasmus, — to  which  the  latter  put 
■  forth  a  reply  replete  with  talent.  The  knight  had,  as  it  were, 
with  both  hands,  seized  his  sword,  and  felled  his  adversary  to 
the  earth ;  the  philosopher,  recovering  his  feet,  had  replied  to 
the  strokes  of  his  adversary  by  peckings  with  his  beak.f 

Hutten  was  again  compelled  to  flight.  He  reached  Zurich, 
and  there  found  a  kind  reception  at  the  hospitable  hearth  of 
Zwingle.  Intrigues  again  obliged  him  to  quit  that  city ;  and 
after  passing  some  time  at  the  baths  of  Pfeffers,  he  repaired, 
provided  with  a  letter  from  the  Swiss  Reformer,  to  the  pastor, 
John  Schnapp,  who  resided  in  the  little  island  of  Uffnan,  on 
the  lake  of  Zurich.  That  humble  minister  of  God's  word 
received  the  sick  and  homeless  knight  with  the  tenderest 
charity.  And  in  that  tranquil  and  unknown  seclusion,  Ulric 
Hutten,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  his  age,  expired 
about  the  end  of  August,  after  an  agitated  life,  in  the  course 
of  which  he  had  been  expelled  by  one  parly,  persecuted  by 
another,  and  deserted  by  nearly  all ;— -having  all  his  life  con- 
tended against  superstition,  without,  as  it  would  seem,  ever 
arriving  at  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  The  poor  minister, 
who  had  gained  some  experience  in  the  healing  art,  had  be- 

*  Ille  egens  et  omnibus  rebus  destitutus  quserebat  nidutn  aliquem  ubi 
movoretur.  Erat  rnihi  gloriosus  ille  miles  cum  sua  scabie  in  aedes 
recipiendus,  simulque  recipiendus  ilie  chorus  titulo  Evangelicoruvi, 
writes  Erasmus  to  Melancthon  in  a  letter  in  which  he  seeks  to  excuse 
him&eif.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  949. 

i  Expostulatio  Hutieni.-^Erasmi  spongLa. 


292  VACILLATION    AND    DECISIOP?. 

Stowed  upon  him  the  utmost  attention.  He  left  behind  hitn 
neither  money  nor  furniture,  nor  books, — nothing-,  save  his 
pen.*  So  broken  was  that  steel-clad  arm  that  he  had  dared 
to  put  forward  to  support  the  ark  of  God. 

But  there  was  one  man  in  Germany  more  formidable  in 
the  eyes  of  Erasmus  than  the  ill-fated  knight, — and  that  man 
was  Luther.  The  time  had  come  when  the  two  great  com- 
batants of  the  age  were  to  measure  their  strength  in  the  lists. 
They  were  the  leaders  of  two  very  different  reformations. 
Whilst  Luther  was  bent  on  a  complete  reformation,  Erasmus, 
as  the  advocate  of  a  middle  course,  w^as  seeking  certain  con- 
cessions from  the  hierarchy,  that  might  have  the  effect  of  con- 
ciliating the  opposing  parties.  Luther  was  disgusted  with  the 
vacillation  and  inconsistency  of  Erasmus.  "  You  are  trying 
to  walk  on  eggs  without  breaking  them,"  said  he.f 

At  the  same  time,  he  met  these  vacillations  of  Erasmus 
with  the  most  entire  and  unfahering  decision.  "  We  Chris- 
tians," said  he,  "  ought  to  be  well  persuaded  of  what  we  teach, 
and  to  be  able  to  say  yes  and  710.  To  object  to  our  affirming 
with  full  conviction  what  we  believe,  is  to  strip  us  of  our  faith 
itself  The  Holy  Spirit  is  no  spirit  of  doubt.  J  And  he  has 
written  in  our  hearts  a  firm  and  peaceful  assurance,  which 
makes  us  as  sure  of  the  object  of  faith  as  we  are  of  our  ex- 
istence." 

These  words  suffice  to  show  on  which  side  strength  was  to 
be  found.  To  effect  a  change  in  religion,  there  is  need  of 
firm  and  living  faith.  A  salutary  revolution  in  the  Church 
is  never  to  be  derived  from  philosophic  views  and  thoughts  of 
man.  To  restore  fertility  to  the  earth  after  a  long  drought, 
the  lightning  must  strike  the  cloud,  and  the  windows  of 
heaven  must  be  opened.  Critical  acuteness,  philosophy,  and 
even  history,  may  prepare  the  ground  for  a  true  faith,  but 
never  can  they  fill  its  place.     Vainly  would  you  cleanse  the 

*  Libros  nullos  habuit,  supellectilera  nullam,  prater  calamum.  (Zv.'. 
Epp.  p.  313.) 

t  Auf  Eyern  gehen  und  keines  zutreten.     (L.  Opp,  xix*  p,  11.^ 
t  Der  heilige  Geist  ist  kein  Sc^pticus.     (Ibid,  p.  8.) 


Erasmus's  quatrain.  293 

aqueduct  or  build  up  your  embankments,  so  long  as  the  rain 
Cometh  not  down  from  heaven.  The  learning-  of  man  with- 
out faith  is  but  as  ihe  drj?-  channel. 

Much  and  essentially  as  Luther  and  Erasmus  differed  one 
from  the  other,  a  hope  was  long- cherished  by  Luther's  friends, 
and  even  by  himself,  that  both  would  one  day  be  united  in  re- 
sistance of  Rome.  Expressions,  dropt  in  his  caustic  humour, 
were  commonly  reported,  which  showed  the  philosopher  dis- 
senting, in  his  opinion,  from  the  most  devoted  adherents  of 
Catholicism.  For  instance,  it  is  related,  that,  when  in  Eng- 
land, he  was  one  day  in  earnest  conversation  with  Thomas 
More  on  the  subject  of  transubstantiation.  "  Only  believe," 
said  More,  "that  you  receive  the  body  of  Christ,  and  you 
really  have  it."  Erasmus  was  silent.  Shortly  after  this, 
when  Erasmus  was  leaving  England,  More  lont  him  a  horse 
to  convey  him  to  the  port  where  he  was  to  embark ;  but  Eras- 
mus took  it  abroad  with  him.  When  More  heard  of  it,  he 
reproached  him  with  much  warmth ;  but  the  only  answer 
Erasmus  gave  him  was  in  the  following  quatrain : — ^^^ 

"  Only  believe  thou  sharest  Christ's  feast,  say  you, 
And  never  doubt  the  fact  is  therefore  true : 
So  write  I  of  thy  horse ; — if  thou  art  able 
But  to  bjUeve  it,  he  is  in  thy  stable."t 

Erasmus's  sentiments  having  got  wind,  not  only  in  Ger- 
many and  England,  but  in  other  countries,  it  was  said  at  Paris 
that  "  Luther  wanted  to  force  open  the  door,  of  which  Eras- 
mus had  already  picked  the  lock."t 

*  There  is  surely  profanity  as  well  as  levity  in  this.  May  the  reader 
be  preserved  from  any  sympathy  with  such  a  way  of  dealing  with  a 
belief  which,  right  or  wrong,  is  reverential. — Tr, 

t  "  Cluod  mihi  dixisti  nuper  de  corpora  Christi; 
Crede  quod  habes  et  habes ; 
Hoc  tibi  rescribo  tantum  de  tuo  caballo  : 
Crede  quod  habes  et  habes." 

(Paravicini,  Singularia,  p,  71.) 
X  Histoire  Cathol.  denotre  temps,  par  S.  Fontaine  de  I'ordre  de  St. 
Francois,  Paris,  1562. 

25* 


294  Luther's  letter  to  Erasmus. 

The  position  taken  by  Erasmus  was  a  difficult  one.  "  I 
will  not  be  unfaithful  to  the  cause  of  Christ,"  wrote  he  to 
Zwingle,  "  at  least  so  far  as  the  times  will  allow,"*  Just  in 
proportion  as  he  saw  Rome  rising  up  against  the  favourers  of 
the  Reformation,  he  prudently  drew  back  from  them.  All 
parties  looked  to  him.  Pope,  emperor,  kings,  nobles,  men  of 
learning,  and  even  his  most  intimate  friends,  entreated  him  to 
take  up  his  pen  against  the  Reformer.!  "  You  cannot  possi- 
bly undertake  a  work  more  acceptable  to  God  and  more  wor- 
thy of  your  genius,"  wrote  the  Pope.:]: 

Erasmus  for  a  longtime  held  out  against  these  solicitations. 
He  could  not  conceal  from  himself  that  the  cause  of  the  Re- 
formation was  that  of  Religion  as  well  as  of  Learning. 
Moreover,  Luther  was  an  adversary  he  dreaded  to  find  him- 
self opposed  to.  "  It  is  an  easy  thing  for  you  to  say,  Write 
against  Luther,"  said  he  to  a  Romish  divine,  "  but  the  matter 
is  full  of  hazard." §     He  knew  not  which  way  to  move. 

This  hesitation  on  the  part  of  Erasmus  drew  upon  him  the 
most  violent  of  both  parties.  Luther  himself  scarcely  knew 
how  to  make  his  respect  for  Erasmus's  learning  consist  with 
the  indignation  his  timid  policy  awakened  in  him.  Pie  re- 
solved to  break  through  the  painful  restraint  he  had  hitherto 
imposed  on  himself,  and  wrote  to  him,  in  April,  1524,  a  let- 
ter which  he  commissioned  Camerarius  to  deliver  to  him. 

"  You  have  not  yet  received  from  ihe  Lord  the  courage  re- 
quisite for  marching  side  by  side  with  us  against  the  Papists. 
We  bear  with  your  weakness.  If  learning  prospers,  and  if, 
by  its  means,  the  treasury  of  Scripture  is  unlocked  to  all 
comers,  it  is  a  gift  which  God  has  given  us  by  you — a  noble 
gift,  for  which  our  praise  ascends  to  heaven.  But  do  not  de- 
sert the  post  assigned  you,  to  take  up  your  quarters  in  our 
camp.      No  doubt  your  eloquence  and  genius  might  be  useful 

*  CLuantum  hoc  seculura  patitur.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  221.) 

t  A  Pontifice,  a  Caisare,  a  regibus  et  principus,  a  doctissimis  etiam 
et  carissimis  amicis  hue  provocor.     (Erasm.  Zw.  Epp.  p.  308.) 

J  Nulla  te  et  ingenio,  eruditione,  eloquentiaque  tua  dignior  esse 
potest.     (Adrianus  Papa,  Epp.  Er.  p.  1202.) 

§  Res  est  periculi  plena.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  758.) 


MOTIVES    OF    ERASMUS  295 

to  us;  but,  since  your  courage  fails  you,  remain  where  you 
are.  If  I  could  have  my  will,  those  who  are  acting  with  me 
should  leave  your  oU  age  in  peace,  to  flill  asleep  in  the  Lord. 
The  greatness  of  our  cause  has  long  ago  surpassed  your 
strength.  But  then,  dear  Erasmus,  cease,  I  pray  you,  to 
scatter,  with  open  hands,  the  biting  satire  you  are  so  skilled  to 
clothe  in  flowery  rhetoric,  for  the  slightest  stroke  of  your  pen 
inflicts  more  pain  than  the  being  ground  to  powder  by  all  the 
Papists  put  together.  Be  satisfied  to  be  a  spectator  of  our 
tragedy  :*  only  abstain  from  writing  against  me,  and  I  will 
not  attack  you." 

Here  we  see  Luther,  whose  spirit  breathed  the  breath  of 
conflict,  asking  for  peace  and  amity  !  Erasmus,  the  man  of 
peace,  broke  it. 

This  communication  of  the  Reformer  was  received  by 
Erasmus  as  the  keenest  of  insults,  and  if  he  had  not  previous- 
ly resolved  on  publishing  against  Luther,  it  is  probable  that 
resolution  was  then  taken.  "  Perhaps,"  was  his  reply,  "  per- 
haps Erasmus  will  better  serve  the  Gospel  by  writing  against 
you,  than  certain  senseless  writers  on  yourf  own  side,  whose 
doctrines  do  not  allow  me  to  be  any  longer  a  mere  spectator 
of  the  tragedy." 

But  other  motives  were  not  wanting.  Henry  VIII.  and 
the  leading  nobility  of  England,  pressed  him  to  declare  him- 
self openly  against  the  Reformation,  and  Erasmus,  in  a  mo- 
ment of  more  than  usual  boldness,  gave  a  promise  to  that  ef- 
fect. His  questionable  position  had,  besides,  become  a  source 
of  continual  trouble  to  him  ;  he  loved  ease,  and  the  necessity 
he  was  continually  brought  under  of  vindicating  his  conduct 
was  a  constant  disturbance.  He  loved  the  praise  of  men,  and 
he  heard  himself  charged  with  fearing  Luther,  and  being  un- 
able to  answer  him — he  clung  to  the  uppermost  seat, — and  the 
plain  monk  of  Wittemberg  had  dethroned  the  powerful  Eras- 
mus from  his  pre-eminence.  It  was  his  aim,  by  a  bold  step, 
to  regain  the  place  he  had  lost.      The  established  Christianity 

*  Spectator  tantum  sis  tragoediae  nostrae.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  501.) 

t  Gluidam  stolidi  scribentes  pro  te.  (Unschuldige  Nachricht,  p.  545.) 


296  IN    OPPOSING    THE    REFORMATION, 

of  his  age,  with  one  voice,  invited  him  to  the  attempt.  A 
man  of  large  capacity,  and  of  the  highest  reputation  in  that 
age,  was  wanted  to  oppose  to  the  Reformation.  Erasmus  gave 
himself  to  the  work. 

But  with  what  weapons  will  he  arm  for  the  encounter  ? 
Will  he  call  forth  the  former  thunders  of  the  Vatican  ?  Will 
he  undertake  the  vindication  of  the  corruptions  which  are  the 
disgrace  of  the  Papacy?  Erasmus  could  not  act  such  a  part. 
The  grand  movement  which  then  swelled  all  hearts,  after  the 
death-like  stupor  of  so  many  centuries,  filled  him  with  joy,  and 
he  would  have  shrunk  from  shackling  its  progress.  Unable  to 
be  the  champion  of  Roman  Catholicism  in  that  which  it  has 
added  to  Christianity,  he  undertook  the  defence  of  it  in  the 
particulars  wherein  it  has  taken  away  from  it.  Erasmus 
chose  for  the  ground  of  his  attack  upon  Luther,  that  point 
wherein  Catholicism  makes  common  cause  with  Rationalism, 
the  doctrine  of  Free  Will,  or  the  power  of  man  by  nature. 
Accordingly,  although  undertaking  thus  to  defend  the  Church, 
Erasmus  was  also  gratifying  the  men  of  this  world  ;  and,  al- 
though fighting  the  battle  on  behalf  of  the  Pope,  he  was  also 
contending  on  the  side  of  the  philosophic  party.  It  has  been 
said  that  he  acted  injudiciously  in  thus  restricting  himself  to 
an  intricate  and  unprofitable  question.*  Luther, — the  Re- 
formers generally, — and,  indeed,  that  age  were  of  a  different 
opinion ;  and  we  agree  with  them.  "  I  must  acknowledge," 
said  Luther,  "  that,  in  this  great  controversy,  you  alone  have 
taken  the  bull  by  the  horns.  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart, 
for  I  prefer  to  be  occupied  with  that  theme  rather  than  such 
secondary  questions  as  Pope,  purgatory,  and  indulgences, 
with  which  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  have  hitherto  dogged 
my  steps."! 

His  own  experience,  and  the  attentive  study  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  of  St.  Augustine,  had  convinced  Luther  that 

*  "  It  is  humbling  to  mankind,"  says  M.  Nisard — see  Revue  des 
deux  mondes,  iii.  p.  411, — "  to  contemplate  men  capable  of  grasping 
eternal  truths,  fencing  and  debating  in  such  trivialities,  like  gladiators 
lighting  with  flies."  t  L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  146. 


LAMENTATIONS    OF    ERASMUS.  297 

the  powers  of  man's  nature  are  so  strongly  inclined  to  evil, 
that,  in  his  own  strength,  he  can  attain  no  more  than  an  out- 
ward decency,  of  no  value  or  sufficiency  in  the  sight  of  God. 
He  had,  at  the  same  time,  recognised  that  it  was  God,  who, 
by  his  Holy  Spirit,  bestowing  freely  on  man  the  gift  of 'faith,' 
communicated  to  him  a  real  righteousness.  This  doctrine 
had  become  the  vital  principle  of  his  religion,  the  predomi- 
nant tenet  of  his  theology,  and  the  pivot  on  which  the  entire 
Reformation  turned. 

Whilst  Luther  maintained  that  every  thing  good  in  man 
came  down  from  God,  Erasmus  sided  w^ith  those  who  thought 
that  this  good  came  out  from  man  himself  God  or  man — 
good  or  evil — these  are  no  unimportant  themes ;  and  if  there 
is  '  triviality,^  it  is  assuredly  not  in  such  solemn  questions. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  1524,  that  Erasmus  published  his 
famous  tract,  entitled  "  Diatribe  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will," 
and  as  soon  as  it  saw  the  light,  the  philosopher  could  hardly 
credit  his  own  boldness.  With  his  eyes  rivetted  on  the  arena, 
he  watched,  with  trembling,  the  gauntlet  he  had  flung  to  his 
adversary.  "  The  die  is  cast,"  he  wrote  to  Henry  Vni., 
with  emotion;  "the  book  on  free  ivill  is  published.  I  have 
done  a  bold  thing,  believe  me.  I  expect  nothing  less  than  to 
be  stoned  for  it.  But  I  take  comfort  from  your  majesty's  ex- 
ample, whom  the  rage  of  these  people  has  not  spared."* 

His  alarm  soon  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  bitterly 
lamented  the  step  he  had  taken  "  Why,"  he  ejaculated,  "why 
was  I  not  permitted  to  grow  old  in  the  mount  of  the  Muses ! 
Here  am  I,  at  sixty  years  of  age,  forcibly  thrust  forward  into 
the  arena,  and  I  am  throwing  the  cestus  and  the  net,  instead 
of  handling  the  lyre!  I  am  aware,"  said  he  to  the  Bishop 
of  Rochester,  "that  in  writing  upon  free  will,  I  was  going  out 
of  my  sphere;  you  congratulate  me  on  my  triumphs.  Ah! 
I  do  not  know  over  whom.  The  faction  (the  Reformation) 
gathers  strength  daily.f     Was  it  then  my  fate,  at  my  time  of 

♦  Jacta  est  alea  .  .  .  audax,  mihi  crede,  facinus  .  .  .  expecto  lapi- 
dationem.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  811.) 

t  Gluomodo  triumphans  nescio  .  .  .  Factio  crescit  in  dies  latius. 
(Ibid,  p.  809.) 


298  ARGUMENTS  FOR  FREE  WILL. 

Jife,  to  pass  from  my  place  as  a  friend  of  the  Muses,  to  that  of 
a  miserable  gladiator !" 

Doubtless  it  was  no  small  matter  for  the  timid  Erasmus  to 
have  stood  forth  against  Luther;  nevertheless,  he  had  not 
spoken  out  with  any  extraordinary  boldness.  He  seems,  in 
his  book,  to  ascribe  but  little  to  man's  will,  and  to  leave  to 
Grace  the  greater  part  of  the  work ;  but  then  he  chooses  his 
arguments  so  as  to  make  it  seem  as  if  man  did  every  thing, 
and  God  nothing.  Not  daring  openly  to  express  his  opinions, 
he  seems  to  afhrm  one  thing,  and  to  prove  another ;  so  that 
one  may  be  allowed  to  suppose  that  he  believed  what  he 
proved,  not  what  he  asserted. 

He  distinguishes  three  several  sentiments  opposed  to  differ- 
ent degrees  of  Pelagianism :  "Some  think,"  said  he,  "that 
man  can  neither  will,  nor  begin,  still  less  perform  any  thing 
good,  without  the  special  and  constant  aid  of  Divine  grace; 
and  this  opinion  seems  probable  enough.  Others  teach  that 
the  will  of  man  has  no  power  but  for  evil,  and  that  it  is  grace 
alone  that  works  any  good  in  us  ;  and,  lastly,  there  are  some 
who  assert  that  there  never  has  been  any  free  will,  either  in 
angels,  or  in  Adam,  or  in  us,  whether  before  or  after  grace 
received;  but  that  God  works  in  man  whether  it  be  good  or 
evil,  and  that  every  thing  that  happens,  happens  from  an  ab- 
solute necessity."* 

Erasmus,  whilst  seeming  to  admit  the  first  of  these  opinions, 
uses  arguments  that  are  opposed  to  it,  and  which  might  be 
employed  by  the  most  determined  Pelagian.  It  is  thus  that, 
quoting  the  passages  of  Scripture,  in  which  God  offers  toman 
the  choice  between  good  and  evil,  he  adds :  "  Man  then  must 
needs  have  a  power  to  will  and  to  choose ;  for  it  would  be 
folly  to  say  to  any  one.  Choose !  were  it  not  in  his  power  to 
do  so?" 

Luther  feared  nothing  from  Erasmus:  "Truth,"  said  he, 
'^  is  more  powerful  than  words.  The  victory  will  remain 
with  him  who  with  stammering  lips  shall  teach  the  truth,  and 

t    *  De  libero  arbitrio  AiaTpiPn.    (Erasmi.  0pp.  ix.  p.  1215,  s(j.) 


PREMATURE    EXULTATION.  299 

not  to  him  who  eloquently  puts  forward  a  lie."*  But  when 
he  received  Erasmus'  book  in  the  month  of  October,  1524.  he 
considered  it  to  be  so  feebly  argued,  that  he  hesitated  whether 
to  answer  it.  "  What !"  he  exclaimed,  "  all  this  eloquence  in 
so  bad  a  cause  !  It  is  as  if  a  man  should  serve  up  mud  on  gold 
and  silver  dislies.f  One  cannot  get  any  hold  noon  you.  You 
are  like  an  eel  that  slips  through  one's  fingers;  or,  like  the 
fabled  Proteus,  who  changes  his  form  when  in  the  very  arms 
of  him  who  would  strangle  him." 

Luther  making  no  reply,  the  monks  and  theologians  of  the 
schools  broke  forth  in  exultation :  "  Well,  where  is  your 
Luther  now?  Where  is  the  great  Maccabeus ?  Let  him  enter 
the  lists !  let  him  come  forward  !  Ah  !  ah !  he  has  at  last 
found  his  match  !  He  has  had  a  lesson  to  keep  in  the  back 
ground  !  he  has  learnt  to  be  silent."J 

Luther  saw  that  he  must  answer  Erasmus;  but  it  was  not 
till  the  end  of  the  year  152.5  that  he  prepared  to  do  so;  and 
Melancthon  having  told  Erasmus  that  Luther  would  write 
with  moderation,  the  philosopher  was  greatly  alarmed.  "  If 
I  write  with  moderation,"  said  he,  "it  is  my  natural  character; 
but  there  is  in  Luther's  character  the  indignation  of  the  son 
of  Peleus.  And  how  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  The  vessel  that 
braves  such  a  storm  as  that  which  rages  round  Luther,  needs 
anchor,  ballast,  and  rudder  to  keep  it  from  bearing  down  out 
of  its  course — If  therefore  he  should  answer  more  temperately 
than  suits  his  character — the  sj^cophants  will  exclaim  that  we 
understand  one  another." — We  shall  see  that  Erasmus  was 
soon  relieved  from  this  last  fear. 

The  doctrine  of  God's  election  as  the  sole  cause  of  man's 
salvation,  had  long  been  dear  to  the  Reformer : — but  hitherto 
he  had  only  considered  its  practical  influence.     In  his  answer 

*  Victoria  est  penes  balbutientem  veritatem,  non  apud  mendacem 
eloquentiara.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  200.) 

t  Als  wenn  einer  in  silbern  oder  guldern  Schiisseln  wolte  mist  und 
Unflath  Auftragen.     (L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  4.) 

i  Sehet,  sehet  nun  da  zu !  wo  ist  nun  Luther.     (Ibid.  p.  3.) 


300  A    TEST. 

to  Erasmus  he  investigated  it  especially  in  a  speculative  point 
of  view,  and  laboured  lo  establish,  by  such  arguments  as 
seemed  to  him  most  conclusive,  that  God  works  every  thing 
in  man's  conversion,  and  that  our  heart  is  so  alienated  from 
the  love  of  God,  that  it  can  only  have  a  sincere  desire  after 
righteousness  by  the  regenerating  action  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

"  To  call  our  will  a  Free  will,"  said  he,  "  is  to  imitate 
those  princes  who  accumulate  long  titles,  styling  themselves 
sovereigns  of  this  or  that  kingdom,  principality,  and  distant 
island,  (of  Rhodes,  Cyprus,  and  Jerusalem,)  over  which  they 
do  not  exercise  the  least  authorit5^"  Nevertheless,  Luther 
here  makes  an  important  distinction  which  shows  that  he  by 
no  means  participated  in  the  third  opinion  which  Erasmus 
had  raised  to  notoriety  by  attributing  it  to  him.  "Man's  will," 
said  he,  "  may  indeed  be  said  to  be  free,  not  indeed  in  relation 
to  what  is  above  him, — that  is,  to  God,— -but  in  relation  to 
what  is  beneath  him, — that  is,  to  the  things  of  this  world.  In 
any  matter  affecting  my  property,  my  lands,  my  house,  or  my 
farm,  I  find  myself  able  to  act,  do,  and  manage  freely;  but  in 
every  thing  that  has  reference  to  his  salvation,  man  is  a  cap- 
tive; he  is  subject  to  the  will  of  God. — or  rather  to  that  of  the 
devil.*  Show  me,"  cries  he,  "only  one  among  all  those  who 
teach  the  doctrine  of  free  will,  who  has  been  able  in  himself 
to  find  strength  to  endure  a  slight  insult,  a  passionate  assault, 
nay,  even  the  hostile  look  of  his  enemy,  and  that  joyfully, — ' 
and  without  so  much  as  asking  whether  he  is  willing  to  give 
up  his  body,  his  life,  his  goods,  his  honour,  and  all  that  he 
has, — I  will  acknowledge  that  you  have  gained  your  cause."t 

Luther  had  too  much  penetration  not  to  discern  the  contra- 
dictions into  which  his  adversary  had  fallen.  He,  therefore, 
in  his  answer,  laboured  to  enclose  the  philosopher  in  the  net 
in  which  he  had  entangled  himself  "  If  the  passages  you 
quote,"  said  he,  "  establish  the  principle  that  it  is  easy  for  us 
to  do  good,  wherefore  is  it  that  we  are  disputing?  And  what 
need  can  we  have  of  Christy  or  the  Holy  Spirit?  Christ 
would  then  have  shed  nis  blood  without  necessity  to  obtain 
*  L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  33.  t  Ibid.  p.  33. 


301 

lor  us  a  power  which  we  already  had  in  our  own  nature." 
In  truth  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus  are  to  be  understood 
in  quite  a  different  sense.  This  much  debated  question  is 
more  simple  than  it  at  first  sight  appears.  When  the  Bible 
says  to  man,  '  Choose,'  it  is  because  it  assumes  the  assistance 
of  God's  grace,  by  which  alone  he  can  obey  the  command. 
God,  in  giving  the  commandment  gives  also  the  strength  to 
fulfil  it.  If  Christ  said  to  Lazarus,  '  Come  forth,'  it  was  not 
that  Lazarus  could  restore  himself  to  life,  but  that  Christ,  in 
commanding  him  to  come  forth,  gave  him  the  ability  to  do  so, 
and  accompanied  his  word  with  his  creative  power.  He 
speaks,  and  it  is  done.  Moreover  it  is  quite  true  that  the  man 
to  whom  God  speaks,  must  will  to  do;  it  is  he  himself,  and 
not  another,  that  must  will ; — he  can  receive  this  will  from 
none  but  God ;  but  surely  in  him  it  must  be ;  and  the  very 
command  which  God  brings  to  him.  and  which,  according  to 
Erasmus,  proves  the  power  to  be  in  man,  is  so  perfectly 
reconcilable  with  God's  working,  that  it  is,  in  fact,  the  very 
means  by  which  that  work  of  God  is  wrought  out.  It  is 
by  saying  to  the  man  "  Be  converted,"  that  God  converts  him. 

But  the  idea  which  Luther  especially  kept  in  view  in  his 
answer  is,  that  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus  are  designed 
not  to  make  known  to  men  this  pretended  power  which  is 
attributed  to  them,  but  to  show  them  their  duty,  and  their  total 
inability  to  fulfil  it.  "  How  often  does  it  happen,"  says 
Luther,  "that  a  father  calls  to  him  his  feeble  child,  saying, 
'Will  you  come,  my  son?  come  then,' — in  oider  thaflhe 
child  may  learn  to  call  for  his  assistance  and  allow  himself  to 
be  carried."* 

After  having  combated  Erasmus's  arguments  in  favour  of 
free  will,  Luther  defends  his  own  against  the  attacks  of  his 
opponent,  "Dear  Diatribe,"  says  he,  ironically,  "mighty 
heroine,  you  who  pride  yourself  on  having  explained  away 
those  words  of  our  Lord  in  St.  John's  Gospel,  '  Without  me 
ye  can  do  nothing,'  although  you  acknowledge  their  force 
and  call  them  Luther's  Achilles,  listen  to  me — Unless  you 
♦  L.  0pp.  xix,  p.  55, 
VOL.  III.  26 


302  JANSENISM. 

prove  that  this  word  nothing  not  only  may,  hut  must  signify  a 
little,  all  your  sounding  words,  all  your  famous  examples, 
have  no  more  effect  than  if  a  man  were  to  attempt  to  oppose  a 
mighty  conflagration  with  a  handful  of  straw.  What  matter 
to  us  such  assertions  as,  This  may  mean,  this  may  be  thus 
understood,  whilst  you  ought  to  prove  to  us  that  it  must  be 
so  understood.  Unless  you  do  this  we  take  the  declaration  in 
its  literal  meaning,  and  laugh  at  all  your  examples,  your  fine 
exordiums,  and  self-complacent  boastings."* 

Subsequently,  Lather  shows,  still  from  the  Scriptures,  that 
the  grace  of  God  does  all  in  Conversion.  He  concludes  thus : 
"  In  short,  since  the  Scripture  every  where  contrasts  Christ 
with  that  which  has  not  the  spirit  of  Christ ;  since  it  declares 
that  every  thing  which  is  not  Christ,  and  in  Christ,  is  under 
the  power  of  delusion,  darkness,  the  devil,  death,  sin,  and  the 
wrath  of  God ;  it  follows  that  every  'passage  in  the  Bible 
which  speaks  of  Christ  is  against  your  doctrine  of  free  will. 
Now  such  passages  are  innumerable,  the  Holy  Scriptures  are 

fullofthem."t 

We  perceive  that  the  discussion  which  arose  between  Lu- 
ther and  Erasmus,  is  the  same  as  that  which  occurred  a  century 
later  between  the  Jansenists  and  Jesuits, — between  Pascal  and 
Molina.|  Wherefore,  then,  while  the  Reformation  has  had 
such  immense  results,  did  Jansenism,  though  adorned  by  the 
finest  geniuses^  go  out  in  weakness?  It  is  because  Jansenism 
went  back  to  St.  Augustine,  and  rested  for  support  on  the  Fa- 
thers; whilsttheReformationwentbacktoTHE  Bible, and  was 
based  on  the  word  of  God ; — because  Jansenism  made  a  com- 
promise with  Rome,  and  would  have  pursued  a  middle  course 
between  truth  and  error ;  whereas,  the  Reformation,  relying 
on  God  alone,  cleared  the  soil,  swept  away  the  incrustations 
of  past  ages,  and  laid  bare  the  primitive  rock.  To  stop  half 
way  in  any  work  is  useless  ;  in  every  undertaking  we  must 

*  L.  Opp.  xix.  p.  116.  +  Ibid.  p.  143. 

X  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  I  do  not  speak  of  personal 
discussions  between  these  two  men,  of  whom,  the  cne  died  in  1600,  and 
the  other  was  not  born  till  1623. 


THE    BIBLE     AND    PHILOSOPHY.  303 

go  through.  Hence,  while  Jansenism  has  passed  away, 
Evangelical  Christianity  presides  over  the  destinies  of  the 
world. 

After  having  energetically  refuted  the  errors  of  Erasmus, 
Luther,  renders  a  high  sounding,  but  perhaps  somewhat  ma- 
licious, homage  to  his  genius.  "  I  confess,"  says  he,  "  that 
you  are  a  great  man :  in  whom  have  we  ever  beheld  more 
learning,  intelligence,  or  readiness,  both  in  speaking  and  writ- 
ing? As  to  me,  I  possess  none  of  these  qualities;  in  one 
thing  only  can  I  glory — I  am  a  Christian.  May  God  raise 
you  infinitely  above  me  in  the  knowledge  of  His  Gospel,  so 
that  you  may  surpass  me  in  that  respect  as  much  as  you  already 
do  in  every  other."* 

Erasmus  was  incensed  beyond  measure  by  the  perusal  of 
Luther's  answer,  and  looked  upon  his  encomiums  as  the  honey 
of  a  poisoned  cup,  or  the  embrace  of  a  serpent  at  the  moment 
he  fixes  his  deadly  fang.  He  immediately  wrote  to  the  Elec- 
tor of  Saxony,  demanding  justice  ;  and,  when  Luther  wished 
to  appease  him,  he  lost  his  usual  temper,  and,  in  the  words  of 
one  of  his  most  zealous  apologists,  began  "to  pour  forth  in- 
vectives in  a  feeble  voice  and  with  hoary  hairs."  f 

Erasmus  was  conquered.  Moderation  had,  till  this  occasion, 
been  his  strength ;  and  now  this  left  him.  Anger  was  the 
only  weapon  he  could  oppose  to  Luther's  energy.  The  wis- 
dom of  the  philosopher,  on  this  occasion,  failed  him.  He  re- 
plied, publicly,  in  his  Hyperapistes,  in  which  he  accuses  the 
Reformer  of  barbarism,  falsehood,  and  blasphemy.  The  phi- 
losopher even  ventured  on  prophecy:  "I  predict,"  said  he, 
"  that  no  name  under  heaven  will  hereafter  be  more  execrated 
than  Luther's."  The  jubilee  of  1817  has  replied  to  this  pro- 
phecy, after  a  lapse  of  three  centuries,  by  the  enthusiasm  and 
acclamations  of  the  entire  Protestant  world. 

Thus,  while  Luther,  with  the  Bible  in  his  hand,  was  placing 
himself  in  the  van  of  his  age,  Erasmus,  in  opposition  to  him, 
sought  that  station  for  himself  and  philosophy.     Of  these  two 

*  L.  0pp.  xix.  p.  146,  147. 
t  M,  Jfisard.  Er^sme,  p.  419- 


304  THE  THREE  DAYs'  BATTLE. 

chiefs,  which  has  been  followed  ?  Both,  undoubtedly.  Nerer- 
theless,  Luther's  influence  on  the  nations  of  Christendom  has 
been  infinitely  greater  than  that  of  Erasmus.  Even  those  who 
did  not  well  comprehend  the  matter  in  dispute,  seeing  the  full 
conviction  of  one  antagonist,  and  the  doubts  of  the  other,  could 
not  refrain  from  believing  that  the  former  had  truth  on  his  side, 
and  that  the  latter  was  in  the  wrong.  It  has  been  said  that  the 
three  last  centuries,  the  16th,  17th  and  18th,  may  be  considered 
as  a  protracted  battle  of  three  days'  duration.*  We  willingly 
adopt  the  comparison,  but  not  the  part  that  is  allotted  to  each 
of  these  days.  The  same  struggle,  it  is  said,  marked  the  six- 
teenth and  the  eighteenth  centuries.  On  the  first  day,  as  on 
the  last,  we  are  told  that  it  was  philosophy  that  broke  the  ranks. 
The  sixteenth  century  philosophical!  Strange  mistake! 
No,  each  of  those  days  had  its  marked  and  peculiar  character- 
istic. On  the  first,  the  Word  of  God,  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
triumphed,  and  Rome  was  defeated  ;  and  Philosophy,  in  the 
person  of  Erasmus,  and  her  other  champions,  shared  in  the 
defeat.  On  the  second,  we  admit  that  Rome,  her  authority, 
her  discipline,  and  her  doctrine,  are  again  seen  on  the  point  of 
obtaining  the  victory,  through  the  intrigues  of  a  far-famed  so- 
ciety, and  the  power  of  the  scaffold,  aided  by  certain  leaders  of 
eminent  character,  and  others  of  lofty  genius.  The  third  day, 
human  Philosophy  arises  in  all  its  pride,  and  finding  the  bat- 
tle field  occupied,  not  by  the  Gospel,  but  by  Rome,  it  quickly 
storms  every  entrenchment,  and  gains  an  easy  conquest.  The 
first  day's  battle  was  for  God,  the  second  for  the  Priest,  the 
third  for  Reason — what  shall  the  fourth  be?  ...  .  The  con- 
fused struggle,  the  hard  fought  conflict,  as  we  believe,  of  all 
these  powers  together,  which  will  end  in  the  triumph  of  Hira 
to  whom  triumph  belongs. 

But  the  battle  which  the  Reformation  fought  in  the  great 

day  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  one  and  single, — but 

manifold.      The  Reformation  had  to  combat  at  once  several 

enemies ;  and  after  having  protested  against  the  decretals  and, 

*  Port  Royal,  par  Sainte  Beuve,  vol.  i.  p.  20. 


CHARACTER    OF    FALSE    SYSTEMS.  305 

the  sovereignty  of  the  Popes, — then  against  the  cold  apoph- 
thegms of  rationalists,  philosophers,  and  school-men, — it  took 
the  field  against  the  reveries  of  enthusiasm  and  the  hallucinations 
of  mysticism;  opposing  alike  to  these  three  powers  the  sword 
and  the  buckler  of  God's  Holy  Revelation. 

We  cannot  but  discern  a  great  resemblance, — a  striking 
unity, — between  these  three  powerful  adversaries.  The  false 
systems  which,  in  every  age,  have  been  the  most  adverse  to 
evangelical  Christianity,  have  ever  been  distinguished  by  their 
making  religious  knowledge  to  emanate  from  man  himself 
Rationalism  makes  it  proceed  from  reason ;  Mysticism  from 
a  certain  internal  illumination  ;  Roman  Catholicism  from  an 
illumination  derived  from  the  Pope,  These  three  errors  look 
for  truth  in  man ;  Evangelical  Christianity  looks  for  it  in  God 
alone:  and  while  Rationalism,  Mysticism,  and  Roman  Ca- 
tholicism acknowledge  a  permanent  inspiration  in  men  like 
ourselves,  and  thus  make  room  for  every  species  of  extrava- 
gance and  schism, — Evangelical  Christianity  recognises  this 
inspiration  only  in  the  writings  of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets, 
and  alone  presents  that  great,  noble,  and  living  unity  which 
continues  to  exist  unchanged  throughout  all  ages. 

The  office  of  the  Reformation  has  been  to  re-establish  the 
rights  of  the  word  of  God,  in  opposition,  not  only  to  Roman 
Catholicism,  but  also  to  Rationalism  and  Mysticism, 

The  fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists,  which  had  been  extin- 
guished in  Germany,  by  Luther's  return  to  Wittemberg,  re- 
appeared in  vigour  in  Switzerland,  where  it  threatened  the  edi- 
fice which  Zwingle,  Haller,  and  CEcoIampadius  had  erected  on 
the  foundation  of  the  word  of  God.  Thomas  Miinzer,  obliged  to 
quit  Saxony  in  1521,  had  reached  the  frontiers  of  Switzerland, 
Conrad  Grebel,  whose  ardent  and  restless  disposition  we  have 
already  remarked,  had  joined  him,  as  bad  also  Felix  Mantz, 
a  canon's  son,  and  several  other  natives  of  Zurich,  Giebel 
endeavoured  to  gain  over  Zwingle.  It  was  in  vain  that  the 
latter  had  gone  further  than  Luther  ;  he  saw  a  party  spring 
up  which  desired  to  proceed  to  yet  greater  lengths.  "  Let  us," 
said  Grebel,  "form  a  community  of  true  behevers;  for  it  is  to 

26* 


806  CONRAD    C4REBEI., 

them  alone  that  the  promise  belongs;  and  let  us  estahlfsh  a 
church,  which  shall  be  without  sin."*  "  It  is  not  possible," 
replied  Zwingle,  "  to  make  a  heaven  upon  earth  ;  and  Christ 
has  taug-ht  us  to  let  the  tares  grow  among  the  wheat."! 

Grebel,  unsuccessful  with  the  Reformer,  wished  to  appeal 
from  him  to  the  people.  "  The  whole  community  of  Zurich," 
said  he,  "  is  entitled  to  decide  finally  in  ail  matters  of  faith." 
But  Zwingle  dreaded  the  influence  which  violent  enthusiasts 
might  exercise  in  a  popular  assembly.  He  believed  that,  ex- 
cept on  some  extraordinary  occasions,  where  the  people  might 
be  called  on  to  give  their  support,  it  was  more  desirable  to  con- 
fide the  interests  of  religion  to  a  college,  which  might  be  con- 
sidered the  chosen  representatives  of  the  church.  Conse- 
quently, the  Council  of  Two  Hundred,  vi^hich  then  exercised 
the  supreme  political  authority  in  Zurich,  was  also  entrusted 
with  the  ecclesiastical  power,  on  the  express  condition  that  it 
should  conform,  in  all  things,  to  the  rule  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. Undoubtedly  it  would  have  been  preferable  to  have 
organised  the  church  complete,  and  called  on  it  to  name  repre- 
sentatives, to  whom  no  interests  save  the  religious  interests  of 
the  people  should  be  confided;  for  he  who  is  qualified  for  af- 
fairs of  state,  may  be  very  unskilful  in  administering  those  of 
the  church, — just  as  the  reverse  of  this  is  also  true.  Neverthe- 
less, the  inconvenience  was  not  then  so  serious  as  it  would  be 
in  our  days,  for  the  members  of  the  Grand  Council  had  heart- 
ily embarked  in  the  religious  movement.  However  this  may 
be.  Zwingle,  in  his  appeal  to  the  church,  would  not  bring  it 
too  prominently  forward  ;  and  preferred  a  system  of  represen- 
tation to  the  act've  sovereignty  of  the  general  body.  Tt  is  the 
same  policy  which,  after  three  centuries,  the  states  of  Europe 
have  adopted,  in  reference  to  earthly  politics. 

Meeting  with  a  repulse  from  Zwingle,  Grebel  turned  in 
another  direction.  Roubli,  an  aged  minister  of  Basle,  Brodt- 
lein,  minister  at  Zollikon,  and  Lewis  Herzer,  welcomed  his 
advances.     They  resolved  on  forming  an  independent  body  in 

*  Vermeintend  ein  Kirchen  zu  versammlen  die  one  Slxnd  wiir.  (Zw. 
0pp.  li.  p.  231.)  t  Zw.  0pp.  iii.  p.  362. 


EXTRAVAGANCES.  307 

the  centre  of  the  general  community, — a  church  within  the 
church.  A  new  baptism  was  to  be  their  instrument  for  gath- 
ering- their  congregation,  which  was  to  consist  exclusively 
of  true  believers.  "The  baptism  of  infants,"  said  they,  "  is  a 
horrible  abomination, — a  flagrant  impiety,  invented  by  the  evil 
spirit  and  by  Pope  Nicholas  II."* 

The  Council  of  Zurich,  in  some  alarm,  directed  that  a 
public  discussion  should  be  held;  and  as  the  Anabaptists  still 
refused  to  relinquish  their  errors,  some  of  them,  who  were 
natives  of  Zurich,  were  imprisoned,  and  others,  who  were 
foreigners,  were  banished.  But  persecution  only  inflamed 
their  zeal.  "  It  is  not  by  words  alone,"  cried  they,  "  but  by 
our  blood,  that  we  are  ready  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of 
our  cause."  Some  of  them,  girding  themselves  with  ropes  or 
rods  of  osier,  ran  through  the  streets,  crying,  "  Yet  a  few- 
days  and  Zurich  will  be  destroyed  !  Woe  to  thee,  Zurich  ! 
woe!  woe!"  Several  there  were  who  uttered  blasphemies: 
"  Baptism,"  said  they,  "  is  but  the  washing  of  a  dog.  To 
baptize  a  child  is  of  no  more  use  than  baptizing  a  cat."t  Four- 
teen men,  including  Felix  Mantz,  and  seven  women,  were  ar- 
rested, and,  in  spite  of  Zwingle's  entreaties,  imprisoned,  on  an 
allowance  of  bread  and  water,  in  the  heretics'  tower.  After 
a  fortnight's  confinement  they  managed,  by  removing  some 
planks  in  the  floor,  to  eflfect  their  escape  during  the  night. 
"  An  angel,"  they  said,  "  had  opened  their  prison  doors,  and 
set  them  free,"  J 

They  were  joined  by  George  Jacob  of  Coira,  a  monk,  who 
had  absconded  fjom  his  convent,  and  M^ho  was  surnamed 
Blaurock,  as  it  would  seem  from  his  constantly  wearing  a 
blue  dress.  His  eloquence  had  obtained  for  him  the  appella- 
tion of  a  second  Paul.  This  intrepid  monk  travelled  from 
place  to  place,  constraining  many,  by  the  fervour  of  his  ap- 

t  Impietatem  manifestissimam,  a  caco  daemone,  a  Nicolao  II.  esse. 
(Hottinger,  ill.  p.  2 19.) 

t  Nutzete  eben  so  viel  als  wenn  man  eine  Katze  taufet.  (Fussl. 
Beytr.  i.  p.  243.) 

X  Wie  die  Apostel  von  dem  Engel  Gottes  gelediget.  (Bull.  Chr. 
p.  261.) 


308 

peals,  to  receive  his  baptism.  One  Sunday,  at  Zollikon, 
whilst  the  deacon  was  preaching-,  the  impetuous  Anabaptist, 
suddenly  interrupting-  him,  exclaimed  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
"  It  is  written,  My  house  is  a  house  of  prayer,  but  ye  have 
made  it  a  den  of  thieves.^''  Then,  raising  the  staff  he  car- 
ried in  his  hand,  he  struck  it  four  times  violently  on  the 
ground. 

"  I  am  a  door,"  exclaimed  he ;  "  by  me  if  any  man  enter 
in  he  shall  find  pasture.  I  am  a  good  shepherd.  My  body 
I  give  to  the  prison  ;  my  life  to  the  sword,  the  axe,  and  the 
wheel.  I  am  the  beginning  of  the  baptism  and  of  the  bread 
of  the  Lord."* 

While  Zwingle  was  attempting  to  stem  the  torrent  of  Ana- 
baptism  at  Zurich,-  it  quickly  inundated  St.  Gall.  Grebel 
arrived  there,  and  was  received  by  the  brethren  with  accla- 
mations ;  and  on  Palm  Sunday  he  proceeded  to  the  banks  of 
the  Sitter,  attended  by  a  great  number  of  his  adherents,  whom 
he  there  baptized. 

The  news  soon  spread  through  the  neighbouring  cantons, 
and  a  great  multitude  from  Zurich,  Appenzell,  and  various 
other  places,  flocked  to  "the  little  Jerusalem." 

Zwingle  was  deeply  afflicted  by  this  agitation.  He  saw  a 
storm  descending  on  the  land  where  the  seeds  of  the  Gospel 
had  as  yet  scarcely  begun  to  take  root.f  Resolving  to  oppose 
these  disorders,  he  composed  a  tract  "  on  Baptism,"^  which 
the  Council  of  St.  Gall,  to  whom  he  dedicated  it,  caused  to  be 
read  in  the  church  in  the  hearing  of  the  people. 

"  Dear  brethren  in  the  Lord,"  said  Zwingle,  "the  waters 
of  the  torrents  w^hich  rush  from  our  rocks  hurry  with  them 
every  thing  within  their  reach.  At  first,  small  stones  only 
are  put  in  motion,  but  these  are  driven  violently  against  larger 
ones,  until  the  torrent  acquires  such  strength  that  it  carries 

*  Ich  bin  ein  Anfanger  der  Taufe  und  des  Herrn  Erodes.  (Fussl. 
Beytr.  i.  p.  264.) 

t  Mich  beduret  seer  das  ungewitter.  (Zw.  to  the  Council  of  St. 
Gall,  ii.  p.  230.) 

X  Vom  Touf,  vom  Widertouf,  und  vom  Kindertouf.  (Zw.  0pp.  ii. 
p.  230.) 


THE    ANABAPTIST    FEAST.  309 

away  every  thing  it  encounters  in  its  course,  leaving  behind 
lamentations,  vain  regrets,  and  fertile  meadows  changed  into 
a  wilderness.  The  spirit  of  disputation  and  self-righteousness 
acts  in  a  similar  manner,  it  occasions  disturbances,  banishes 
charity,  and  where  it  found  fair  and  prosperous  churches, 
leaves  behind  it  nothing  but  mourning  and  desolate  flocks." 

Thus  wrote  Zwingle — the  child  of  the  mountains  of  the 
Tockenburg.  "  Give  us  the  word  of  God,"  exclaimed  an 
Anabaptist  who  was  present  in  church,  "and  not  the  word  of 
Zwingle."  Immediately  confused  voices  arose  :  "Away  with 
the  book  !  away  with  the  book  !"  cried  the  Anabaptists.  Then 
rising,  they  quitted  the  church,  exclaiming,  "  Do  you  keep 
the  doctrine  of  Zwingle  ;  as  for  us,  we  will  keep  the  word  of 
God."* 

Then  it  was  that  this  fanaticism  broke  forth  in  lamentable 
disorders.  Alleging,  in  excuse,  that  the  Saviour  had  exhorted 
us  to  become  as  little  children,  these  poor  creatures  began  to 
go  dancing  through  the  streets,  clapping  their  hands,  footing 
it  in  a  circle,  seating  themselves  on  the  ground  together,  and 
tumbling  each  other  in  the  sand.  Some  there  were  who  threw 
the  New  Testament  into  the  fire,  exclaiming,  "  The  letter 
killeth,  the  spirit  giveth  life;"  and  several,  falling  into  con- 
vulsions, pretended  to  have  revelations  from  the  Holy  Spirit. 

In  a  solitary  house  situated  on  the  Mullegg,  near  St.  Gall, 
lived  an  aged  farmer,  John  Schucker,  with  his  five  sons.  The 
whole  family,  including  the  servants,  had  received  the  new 
baptism;  and  two  of  the  sons,  Thomas  and  Leonard,  were 
distinguished  for  their  fanaticism.  On  the  7th  of  February, 
1526,  being  Shrove  Tuesday,  they  invited  a  large  party  of 
Anabaptists  to  their  house,  and  the  father  had  a  calf  killed  for 
the  feast.  The  good  cheer,  the  wine,  and  their  numbers  alto- 
gether, heated  their  imaginations ;  and  they  spent  the  whole 
night  in  fanatical  excitement,  convulsions,  visions,  and  reve- 
lations.! 

*  So  woUen  wir  Gottes  Wort  haben.     (Zw.  0pp.  ii.  p.  237.) 
t  Mit  wunderbaren  geperden  und  gesprachcn,  verzucken,  gesichten, 
und  offenbarungen.     (Bulling.  Chr.  i.  p.  324.) 


310  HORRIBLE    TRAGEDY. 

In  the  morning-,  Thomas,  still  agitated  by  that  night  of  dis- 
order, and  having  even, — as  it  would  seem, — lost  his  senses, 
took  the  calf  s  bladder,  and  placing  part  of  the  gall  in  it,  in 
imitation  of  the  symbolical  language  of  the  prophets,  ap- 
proached his  brother  Leonard,  and  said  to  him  gloomily, 
"  Thus  bitter  is  the  death  thou  art  to  suffer  1"  Then  he  added, 
"  Brother  Leonard,  fall  on  thy  knees  ;"  Leonard  knelt  down ; 
— ^presently,  "Brother  Leonard,  arise!"  Leonard  arose. 
Their  father,  brothers,  and  the  other  Anabaptists,  looked  on 
with  astonishment,  asking  themselves  what  God  would  do. 
Soon  Thomas  resumed  :  "  Leonard,  kneel  down  again !" 
Leonard  obeyed.  The  spectators,  terrified  at  the  gloomy 
countenance  of  the  wretched  Thomas,  said  to  him,  "  Reflect 
on  what  thou  art  about  to  do  ;  take  care  that  no  mischief  hap- 
pens."— "Fear  not,"  answered  Thomas,  "nothing  will  hap- 
pen without  the  will  of  the  Father."  At  the  same  moment 
he  hastily  snatched  a  sword,  and  bringing  it  down  with  all 
his  force  on  the  neck  of  his  brother,  who  was  kneeling  before 
him,  like  a  criminal  before  the  executioner,  he  severed  his 
head  from  his  body,  crying  out,  "  Now  is  the  will  of  the 
Father  accomplished  !"  The  bystanders  recoiled  in  horror; 
the  farm  resounded  with  shrieks  and  lamentations.  Thomas, 
who  had  nothing  on  him  but  his  shirt  and  drawers,  rushed 
out  of  the  house  bare-footed,  and  with  his  head  uncovered, 
and  running  towards  St.  Gall  with  frenzied  gestures,  entered 
the  house  of  the  burgomaster,  Joachim  Vadian,  with  haggard 
looks,  shouting,  "I  proclaim  to  thee  the  day  of  the  Lord." 
The  dreadful  tidings  spread  throughout  St.  Gall — "  He  has 
killed  his  brother  as  Cain  killed  Abel,"  said  the  crowd.* 
The  criminal  was  seized. — "  True,"  he  repeated  continually, 
"  I  did  it,  but  it  was  God  who  did  it  by  my  hand."  On  the 
16th  of  February,  the  unhappy  wretch  was  beheaded  by  the 
executioner.  Fanaticism  had  run  its  course  to  the  utmost. 
Men's  eyes  were  opened,  and,  to  adopt  the  words  of  an  early 
historian,  "the  same  blow  took  off  the  head  of  Thomas 
Schucker,  and  of  Anabaptism  in  St.  Gall." 

«  Gl^ch  wie  Kain  den  Abel  sinen  bruder  ermort  hat !  (Bull.  Chr.  i,  324.) 


DISCUSSION    ON    BAPTISM.  311 

At  Zurich,  however,  it  still  prevailed.  On  the  6th  of  No- 
vember, in  the  preceding-  year,  a  public  discussion  had  taken 
place,  in  order  to  content  the  Anabaptists,  vi^ho  were  constantly 
complaining  that  the  innocent  were  condemned  unheard.  The 
three  following  theses  were  put  forth  by  Zvvingle  and  his 
friends,  as  subjects  of  the  conference,  and  triumphantly  main- 
tained by  them  in  the  Council  hall. 

"  The  children  of  believing  parents  are  children  of  God, 
even  as  those  who  were  born  under  the  Old  Testament ;  and 
consequently  they  may  receive  Baptism." 

"  Baptism  is,  under  the  New  Testament,  what  Circumcision 
was  under  the  Old.  Consequently,  Baptism  is  now  to  be  ad- 
ministered to  children,  as  Circumcision  was  formerly." 

"  The  custom  of  repeating  Baptism  cannot  be  justified  either 
by  examples,  precepts,  or  arguments  drawn  from  Scripture ; 
and  those  who  are  re-baptized,  crucify  Jesus  Christ  afresh." 

But  the  Anabaptists  did  not  confine  themselves  to  questions 
purely  religious ;  they  demanded  the  abolition  of  tithes, 
"since,"  said  they,  "they  are  not  of  divine  appointment." 
Zwingle  replied  that  the  tithes  were  necessary  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  churches  and  schools.  He  desired  a  complete 
religious  reformation,  but  he  was  resolved  not  to  allow  the 
least  invasion  of  public  order  or  political  institutions.  This 
was  the  limit  at  which  he  discerned,  written  by  the  hand  of 
God,  that  word  from  heaven,  "  Thus  far  shalt  thou  go,  and  no 
farther."*  Somewhere,  it  was  necessary  to  make  a  stand ; 
and  it  was  at  this  point  that  Zwingle  and  the  Reformers  took 
their  stand,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  made  by  rash  and  impetuous 
men  to  hurry  them  beyond  it. 

But  when  the  Reform^ers  themselves  stopped,  they  could  not 
stop  the  enthusiasts,  who  seem  as  if  brought  into  contact  with 
them  in  order  to  set  off  by  contrast  their  wisdom  and  sober- 
mindedness.  It  was  not  enough  for  the  Anabaptists  to  have 
formed  their  church  ; — in  their  eyes  that  church  was  itself 
the  State.  Did  any  one  summon  them  before  the  tribunals, — 
they  refused  to  recognise  the  civil  authority,  maintaining  that 
*  Job  xxxviii.  11. 


312  OPINIONS    NOT    PUNISHABLE. 

it  was  a  remnant  of  Pag:anism,  and  that  they  would  obey  no 
power  but  that  of  God!  They  taught  that  it  was  unl;)\vful 
for  Christians  to  fill  public  offices  or  bear  the  sword. — md, 
resembling-  in  another  respect  certain  irreligious  enthusiatis  of 
our  own  days,  the^^  esteemed  a  '  community  of  goods'  as  the 
perfection  of  humanity.* 

Thus  the  evil  was  increasing ;  Civil  Society  was  endan- 
gered. It  arose  to  cast  out  from  its  bosom  those  elements  that 
threatened  it  with  destruction.  The  Government,  in  its  alarm, 
suffered  itself  to  be  hurried  into  strange  measures.  Resolved 
on  making  an  example,  they  condemned  Mantz  to  be  drowned. 
On  the  5th  January,  1527,  he  was  put  into  a  boat ;  his  mother, 
(the  aged  concubine  of  his  father,  the  canon,)  together  with  his 
brother,  mingled  in  the  crowd  which  accompanied  him  to  the 
water's  edge.  "  Be  faithful  unto  death,"  was  their  exhorta- 
tion. At  the  moment  when  the  executioner  prepared  to  throw 
Mantz  into  the  lake,  his  brother  burst  into  tears  ;  but  his 
mother,  calm  and  undaunted,  witnessed,  with  eyes  dry  and 
flashing  fire,  the  martyrdom  of  her  son.f 

The  same  day,  Blaurock  was  scourged  with  rods.  As  he 
was  led  outside  the  city,  he  shook  his  blue  dress,  and  the  dust 
from  ofT  his  feet,  against  it.|  This  unhappy  man  was,  it 
would  appear,  burnt  alive  two  years  after  this  by  the  Roman 
Catholics  of  the  Tyrol 

Undoubtedly,  a  spirit  of  rebellion  existed  among  the  Ana- 
baptists ;  undoubtedly,  the  ancient  ecclesiastical  law,  which 
condemned  heretics  to  capital  punishments,  was  still  in  force, 
and  the  Reformation  could  not,  in  the  space  of  one  or  two 
years,  reform  every  thing ;  nor  can  we  doubt  that  the  Catholic 
states  would  have  accused  their  Protestant  neighbours  of  en- 
couraging insubjection,  if  the  latter  had  not  resorted  to  severe 
measures  against  these  enthusiasts  ;  but  though  such  conside- 

*  Fiissl.  Beytr.  i.  p.  229—258 ;    ii.  p.  263. 

t  Ohne  das  er  oder  die  Mutter,  sondern  nur  der  Bruder  geweinet. 
(Hott.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  385.) 

X  Und  schiittlet  sinen  blauen  rock  und  sine  schiih  uber  die  Statt 
Zurich.     (Bull.  Chr.  i.  p.  382.) 


POPISH    IMMOBILITY.  313 

rations  serve  to  account  for  the  rig-our  of  the  magistrate,  they 
never  can  justify  it.  Measures  might  be  taken  against  an  in- 
fringement of  the  civil  constitution,  but  religious  errors,  being 
comhited  by  the  teachers  of  religion,  should  be  altogether 
exempt  from  the  jurisdiction  of  civil  tribunals.  Such  opinions 
are  not  to  be  expelled  by  whippings,  nor  are  they  drowned 
in  the  waters  into  which  those  who  piofess  them  may  be  cast: 
they  again  come  forth  from  the  depth  of  the  abyss  ;  and  the 
fire  hut  serves  to  kindle  in  those  who  adhere  to  them  a  fiercer 
enthusiasm,  and  thirst  for  martyrdom.  Zwingle,  whose  sen- 
timents on  this  subject  we  have  already  seen,  took  no  part  in 
these  severities,* 

But  it  was  not  only  on  the  subject  of  baptism  that  dissen- 
sions were  to  arise ;  yet  more  serious  differences  appeared, 
touching  the  doctrine  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

The  human  mind,  freed  from  the  yoke  which  had  so  long 
weighed  it  down,  made  use  of  its  liberty  ;  and,  if  Romanism 
is  hemmed  in  by  the  shoals  of  despotic  authority,  Protestantism 
has  to  steer  clear  of  those  of  anarchy.  One  characteristic  dis- 
tinction of  Protestantism  is  progress,  while  that  of  Romanism 
is  immobility. 

Roman  Catholicism,  possessing  in  the  papal  authority  a 
means  of,  at  any  time,  establishing  new  doctrines,  appears,  at 
first  view,  to  have  in  it  a  principle  eminently  favourable  to 
change.  It  has,  indeed,  largely  availed  itself  of  this  power, 
and,  century  after  century,  we  see  Rome  bringing  forward,  or 
confirming  new  dogmas.  But  its  system  once  completed,  Ro- 
man Catholicism  has  declared  itself  the  champion  of  immo- 
bility. Therein  lies  its  safety:  it  resembles  a  shaky  building, 
from  which  nothing  can  be  taken  without  bringing  the  whole 
down  to  the  ground.  Permit  the  priests  to  marry,  or  strike  a 
blow  against  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  and  the  whole 
system  totters — the  entire  edifice  falls  to  pieces. 

It  is  not  thus  with  Evangelical  Christianity.     Its  principle 

♦  Quod  homines  seditiosi,  rei-publicae  turbatores,  magistratuum  hostes, 
justa  Senatus   sententia,  damnati   sunt,   num  id  Zwinglio  fraudi  esse 
poterif?     (Rod.  Gualtheri  Epist.  ad  lectorem,  0pp.  1544.  ii.) 
VOL.  III.  27 


314  ZWINGLE    AND    LUTHER. 

is  much  less  favourable  to  change^  much  more  so  to  progress 
and  life.  On  the  one  hand,  it  recognises  no  other  fountain  of 
truth  than  Scripture,  one  and  immutably  the  same,  from  the 
very  beginning  of  the  Church  to  the  end  of  time;  how,  then, 
should  it  vary,  as  Popery  has  varied  ?  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
every  individual  Christian  is  to  draw  for  himself  from  this 
fountain ;  and  hence  spring  progress  and  liberty.  Accord- 
ingly, Evangelical  Christianity,  although  in  the  nineteenth 
century  the  same  that  it  was  in  the  sixteenth,  and  in  the  first, 
is, — at  all  times, — full  of  spontaneity  and  action  ;  and  is,  at 
this  moment,  filling  the  wide  world  with  its  researches  and  its 
labours,  its  Bibles  and  its  missionaries,  with  light,  salvation, 
and  life ! 

It  is  a  gross  error  which  would  class  together,  and  almost 
confound,  rationalism  and  mysticism  with  Christianity,  and,  in 
so  doing,  charge  upon  it  the  extravagances  of  both.  Progress 
belongs  to  the  nature  of  Christian  Protestantism :  it  has  noth- 
ing in  common  with  immobility  and  a  state  of  deadness ;  but 
its  movement  is  that  of  healthful  vitality,  and  not  the  aberra- 
tion of  madmen,  or  the  restlessness  of  disease.  We  shall  see 
this  character  manifesting  itself  in  relation  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  Lord's  Supper. 

What  ensued  might  have  been  expected.  This  doctrine  had 
been  understood  in  very  various  ways  in  the  early  ages  of  the 
Church:  and  the  difference  of  opinion  continued  up  to  the 
time  when  the  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  and  the  scholastic 
theology  began,  at  about  the  same  period,  their  reign  over  the 
mind  of  the  middle  ages.  But  that  dominion  was  now  shaken 
to  its  base,  and  the  former  differences  were  again  to  appear. 

Zwingle  and  Luther,  who  had  at  first  gone  forv/ard,  each 
in  his  separate  course, — the  one  in  Switzerland,  the  other  in 
Saxony, — were  one  day  to  find  themselves  brought,  as  it  were, 
face  to  face.  The  same  mind,  and,  in  many  respects,  the  same 
character,  might  be  discerned  in  them.  Both  were  full  of  love 
for  truth  and  hatred  of  injustice;  both  were  naturally  violent; 
and  in  both  that  violence  was  tempered  by  sincere  piety.  But 
there  was  one  feature  in  the  character  of  Z win de  which  tend- 


ZWINGLE    ON    THE    LORd's    SUPPER.  315 

ed  to  carry  him  beyond  Luther.  He  loved  liberty,  not  only 
as  a  man.  but  as  a  republican,  and  the  fellow-countryman  of 
Tell.  Accustomed  lo  the  decision  of  a  free  state,  he  was  not 
stopped  by  considerations  before  which  Luther  drew  back. 
He  had,  moreover,  given  less  time  to  the  study  of  the  theology 
of  the  schools,  and  found  himself,  in  consequence,  less  shackled 
in  his  modes  of  thinking.  Both  ardently  attached  to  their  own 
convictions, — both  resolute  in  defending  them, — and  little 
accustomed  to  bend  to  the  convictions  of  others,  they  were  now 
to  come  in  contact,  like  two  proud  chargers  rushing  from 
opposite  ranks  and  encountering  on  the  field  of  battle. 

A  practical  tendency  predominated  in  the  character  of 
Zwingle  and  of  the  Reformation  which  he  had  begun,  and 
this  tendency  was  directed  to  two  great  ends — simplicity  in 
worship  and  sanclification  in  life.  To  adapt  the  form  of  wor- 
ship to  the  wants  of  the  soul,  seeking  not  outward  ceremonies, 
but  things  invisible,  was  Zwingle's  first  object.  The  idea  of 
Christ's  real  presence  in  the  Eucharist,  which  had  given  rise 
to  so  many  ceremonies  and  superstitions  in  the  Church,  must, 
therefore,  be  abolished.  But  the  other  great  desire  of  the 
SxA'iss  Reformer  led  him  directly  to  the  same  result.  He 
judged  that  the  Romish  doctrine  respecting  the  Supper,  and 
even  that  held  by  Luther,  implied  a  belief  of  a  certain  mysti- 
cal influence,  which  belief,  he  thought,  stood  in  the  way  of 
sanctification  ; — he  feared  lest  the  Christian,  thinking  that  he 
received  Christ  in  the  consecrated  bread,  should  no  longer 
earnestly  seek  to  be  united  to  him  by  faith  in  the  heart. 
"Faith,"  said  he,  "is  not  knowledge,  opinion,  imagination; — 
it  is  a  reality.*  It  involves  in  it  a  real  participation  in  divine 
things."  Thus,  whatever  the  adversaries  of  Zwingle  may 
have  asserted,  it  was  no  leaning  towards  rationalism,  but  a 
deep  religious  view  of  the  subject  which  conducted  him  to  the 
doctrines  he  maintained. 

The  result  of  Zwingle's  studies  were  in  accordance  with 
these   tendencies.     In   studying  the   Scriptures,  not  only  in 

*  Fidem  rem  esse,  non  scientiam,  opinionem  vel  imaginationem. 
^Comment  de  yera  rejig.  Zy/.  0pp.  iii.  p.  230.) 


816  CONSUBSTANTIATIGN. 

detached  passages,  but  as  a  whole,  and  having  recourse  to 
classical  antiquity  to  solve  the  difficulties  of  language,  he 
arrived  at  the  conviction,  that  the  word  "  is"  in  the  words  of 
institution  of  this  sacrament,  should  be  taken  in  the  sense  of 
^^  signifies  f^  and.  as  early  as  the  year  1523,  he  wrote  to  a 
friend,  that  the  bread  and  wine  in  the  Lord's  Supper  are 
exactly  what  the  water  is  in  baptism.*  *■  In  vain,"  added  he, 
"  would  you  plunge  a  thousand  times  under  the  water  a  man 
who  does  not  believe.     Faith  is  the  one  thing  needful." 

Luther,  at  first,  set  out  from  principles  nearly  similar  to 
those  of  the  Reformer  of  Zurich.  "  It  is  not  the  sacrament 
which  sanctifies,"  said  he,  "  it  is  faith  in  the  sacrament."  But 
the  extravagances  of  the  Anabaptists,  whose  mysticism  spirit- 
ualized every  thino-,  produced  a  great  change  in  his  views. 
When  he  saw  enthusiasts,  who  pretended  to  inspiration,  de- 
stroying images,  rejecting  baptism,  and  denying  the  presence 
of  Christ  in  the  Eucharist,  he  was  affrighted;  he  had  a  kind 
of  prophetic  presentiment  of  the  dangers  which  would  threaten 
the  Church  if  this  tendency  to  over-spiritualize,  should  gain 
the  ascendant ;  hence  he  took  a  totally  different  course,  like 
the  boatman,  who,  to  restore  the  balance  of  his  foundering 
skiff,  throws  all  his  weight  on  the  side  opposed  to  the  storm. 

Thenceforv/ard,  Luther  assigned  to  the  sacraments  a  higher 
importance.  He  maintained  they  were  not  only  signs  by 
which  Christians  were  outwardly  distinguished,  but  evidences 
of  the  Divine  will,  adapted  to  strengthen  our  faith.  He  went 
farther :  Christ,  according  to  him,  desired  to  give  to  believers 
a  full  assurance  of  salvation,  and,  in  order  to  seal  this  promise 
to  them  with  most  effect,  had  added  thereto  his  real  body  in 
the  bread  and  wine.  "Just,"  continued  he,  "as  iron  and  fire, 
though  two  different  substances,  meet  and  are  blended  in  a  red 
hot  bar,  so  that  in  every  part  of  it  there  is  at  once  iron  and  fire ; 
so,  a  fortiori,  the  glorified  body  of  Christ  exists  in  every  part 
of  the  bread." 

Thus,  at  this  period  of  his  career,  Luther  made,  perhaps,  a 

*  Haud  aliter  hie  panem  et  vinum  esse  puto  quam  aqua  est  ja 
Vaptismo,     (Ad  Wittenbachiun^  Epp.  15th  Juncj  1523.) 


317 

partial  return  to  the  scholastic  theology.  He  had  openly- 
divorced  himself  from  it  on  the  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith;  but  on  the  doctrine  of  this  Sacrament,  he  gave  up  but 
one  point,  viz,  traiisubstantiation,  and  retained  the  other,  the 
real  presence.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  would 
rather  receive  the  mere  blood  with  the  Pope,  than  the  mere 
wine  with  Zwingle. 

Luther's  great  principle  was  never  to  depart  from  the  doc- 
trines or  customs  of  the  Church,  unless  the  words  of  Scrip- 
ture absolutely  required  him  to  do  so.  "  Where  has  Christ 
commanded  us  to  elevate  the  host,  and  exhibit  it  to  the  people  ?" 
had  been  Carlstadt's  question.  "  Where  has  he  forbidden  it  ?" 
was  Luther's  reply.  Herein  lies  the  difference  of  the  two 
Reformations  we  are  considering.  The  traditions  of  the 
Church  were  dear  to  the  Saxon  Reformer.  If  he  separated 
from  them  on  many  points,  it  was  not  till  after  much  conflict 
of  mind,  and  because,  above  all,  he  saw  the  necessity  of  obey- 
ing the  word  of  God.  But  wherever  the  letter  of  God's 
word  appeared  to  him  in  accordance  with  the  tradition  and 
practice  of  the  Church,  he  adhered  to  it  with  unalterable  reso- 
lution. Now  this  was  the  case  in  the  question  concerning 
the  Lord's  Supper.  He  did  not  deny  that  the  word  "  w"  might 
be  taken  in  the  sense  ascribed  to  it  by  Zwingle.  He  admit- 
ted, for  example,  that  it  must  be  so  understood  in  the  passage, 
"  That  rock  was  Christ  ;"*  but  what  he  did  deny  was  that 
the  word  should  be  taken  in  this  sense  in  the  institution  of  the 
Lord's  Supper. 

In  one  of  the  later  schoolmen,  Occam,  whom  he  preferred 
to  all  others,!  he  found  an  opinion  which  he  embraced. 
With  Occam,  he  gave  up  the  continually  repeated  miracle,  in 
virtue  whereof,  according  to  the  Romish  Church,  the  body  and 
blood  take  the  place  of  the  bread  and  wine  after  every  act  of 
consecration  by  the  priest, — and  with  Occam,  substituted  for  it 
a  universal  miracle,  wrought  once  for  all, — that  is,  the  ubi- 

♦  1  Cor.  X.  4. 

t  Diu  multumque  legit  scripta  Occam  cujus  acumen  anteferebat 
Thomas  et  Scoto.     (Melancth.  Vita  Luth.) 

27* 


318  carlstadt's  writings  prohibited. 

quity  or  omnipresence  of  Christ's  body.  "  Christ,"  said  he, 
"  is  present  in  the  bread  and  wine,  because  he  is  present  every- 
where,— -and  in  an  especial  manner  where  he  wills  to  be."* 

The  inclination  of  Zwingle  was  the  reverse  of  Luther's. 
He  attached  less  importance  to  the  preserving  a  union,  in  a 
certain  sense,  with  the  universal  church,  and  thus  maintaining" 
our  hold  upoa  the  tradition  of  past  ages.  As  a  theologian,  he 
looked  to  Scripture  alone;  and  thence  only  would  he  freely, 
and  without  any  intermediary  channel,  derive  his  faith ;  not 
stopping  to  trouble  himself  with  what  others  had  in  former 
times  believed.  As  a  republican,  he  looked  to  the  commune 
of  Zurich.  His  mind  was  occupied  with  the  idea  of  the 
church  of  his  own  time,  not  with  that  of  other  days.  He  re- 
lied especially  on  the  words  of  St.  Paul, — "  Because  there  is 
but  one  bread,  ice  being  many  are  One  bod7/;'\  and  he  saw  in 
the  supper  the  sign  of  a  spiritual  communion  between  Christ 
and  all  Christians.  "  Whoever,"  said  he,  "  acts  unworthily,  is 
guilty  of  sin  against  the  body  of  Christ,  of  which  he  is  a  mem- 
ber." Such  a  thought  had  a  great  practical  power  over  the 
minds  of  communicants ;  and  the  effects  it  wrought  in  the  lives 
of  many,  was  tu  Zwingle  the  confirmation  of  it. 

Thus  Luther  and  Zwingle  had  insensibly  separated  from 
one  another.  Nevertheless  peace,  perhaps,  might  have  con- 
tinued between  them,  if  the  turbulent  Carlstadt,  who  spenJ 
some  time  in  passing  to  and  fro  between  Germany  and  Switz- 
erland, had  not  inflamed  their  conflicting  opinions. 

A  step,  taken  with  a  view  to  preserve  peace,  led  to  the  ex- 
'  plosion.  The  Council  of  Zurich,  wishing  to  put  a  stop  to 
controversy,  prohibited  the  sale  of  Carlstadt's  writings. 
Zwingle,  though  he  disapproved  the  violence  of  Carlstadt,  and 
blamed  his  mystic  and  obscure  expressions,  J  upon  this,  thought 
it  right  to  defend  his  doctrine,  both  from  the  pulpit  and  before 

*  Occam  und  Luther.     Sl7idien  und  Kritiken.  1839,  p.  69. 

t  The  passage  referred  to  is  1  Cor.  x,  17,  and  the  original  stands 

thus: — 'Oti   £?f   Ujoroj,    £v   awfia   ol   nnWol   Ifffiev.      (Tr.)  ., 

t  Cluod  morosior  est  (Carlstadius)  in  cseremoniis  non  ferendis,  non 
admodum  probo.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  369.) 


zwingle's  commentary.  31Q 

the  Council ;  and  soon  afterwards  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  min- 
ister, Albert  of  Reutlingen,  in  which  he  said:  "Whether  or 
not  Christ  is  speaking  of  the  sacrament  in  the  sixth  chapter 
of  St.  John's  gospel,  it  is,  at  least,  evident,  that  he  therein 
teaches  a  mode  of  eating  his  flesh  and  drinking  his  blood,  in 
which  there  is  nothing  corporeal."*  He  then  endeavoured  to 
prove  that  the  Supper  of  the  Lord,  by  reminding  the  faithful, 
according  to  Christ's  design,  of  his  body  which  '  was  broken' 
for  them,  is  the  procuring  cause  of  that  spiritual-manducation, 
which  is  alone  truly  beneficial  to  them. 

Nevertheless,  Zwingle  still  shrunk  from  a  rupture  with 
Luther.  He  trembled  at  the  thought  that  distressing  discus- 
sions would  rend  asunder  the  little  company  of  believers 
forming  in  the  midst  of  effete  Christendom.  Not  so  with 
Luther.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  include  Zwingle  in  the  ranks 
of  those  enthusiasts  with  whom  he  had  already  broken  so 
many  lances.  He  did  not  reflect  that  if  images  had  been  re- 
moved from  the  churches  of  Zurich,  it  had  been  done  legallvj 
and  by  public  authority.  Accustomed  to  the  forms  of  the 
German  principalities,  he  knew  but  little  of  the  manner  of  pro- 
ceeding in  the  Swiss  republics;  and  he  declared  against  the 
grave  Swiss  divines,  just  as  he  had  done  against  the  Muntzers 
and  the  Carlstadts. 

Luther  having  put  forth  his  discourse  "  against  celestial 
prophets,^^  Zwingle's  resolution  was  taken ;  and  he  published 
almost  immediately  after,  his  Letter  to  Albert,  and  his  Com- 
me7itary  on  true  and  false  Religion,  dedicated  to  Francis  L 
In  it  he  said,  "  Since  Christ,  in  the  sixth  of  John,  attributes  to 
faith  the  power  of  communicating  eternal  life,  and  uniting  the 
believer  to  him  in  the  most  intimate  of  all  unions,  what  more 
can  we  need?  Why  should  we  think  that  he  would  after- 
wards attribute  that  efficacy  to  His  flesh,  when  He  himself 
declares  that  the  flesh  profiteth  nothing?  So  far  as  the  suffer- 
ing death  for  us,  the  flesh  of  Christ  is  of  unspeakable  benefit 

*  A  manducatione  cibi,  qui  ventrem  implet,  transiit  ad  verbi  man- 
ducationem,  quam  cibum  vocat  coelestem,  qui  mundum  vivificet.  (Zw. 
0pp.  iii.  p.  573.) 


320  THE    SUABIAN    SYNGRAMMA. 

to  US, — for  it  saves  us  from  perdition ; — but  as  being  eaten  by 
us,  it  is  altogether  useless." 

The  contest  began.  Pomeranus,  Luther's  friend,  took  the 
field,  and  attacked  the  Evangelist  of  Zurich  somewhat  too 
contemptuously.  Then  it  was  that  OEcolampadius  began  to 
blush  that  he  had  so  long  struggled  with  his  doubts,  and 
preached  doctrines  which  were  already  giving  way  in  his  own 
mind.  Taking  courage,  he  wrote  from  Basle  to  Zwingle. 
"  The  dogma  of  the  '  real  presence'  is  the  fortress  and  strong 
hold  of  their  impiety;  so  long  as  they  cleave  to  this  idol,  none 
can  overcome  them."  After  this,  he,  too,  entered  the  lists,  by 
publishing  a  tract  on  the  import  of  the  Lord's  words,  "  This 
is  my  hody.''^* 

The  bare  fact  that  GEcolampadius  had  joined  the  Reformer 
of  Zurich,  excited  an  immense  sensation,  not  only  at  Basle, 
but  throughout  all  German3^  Luther  was  deeply  affected  by 
it.  Brentz.  Schnepff,  and  twelve  other  ministers  in  Suabia,  to 
whom  GEcolampadius  had  dedicated  his  tract,  and  who  had 
almost  all  been  disciples  under  him,  testified  the  most  lively 
sorrow.  In  taking  up  the  pen  to  answer  him,  Brentz  said, 
"  Even  at  this  moment,  when  I  am  separating  from  him  for 
just  reasons,  I  honour  and  admire  him  as  much  as  it  is  possi- 
ble to  do.  The  tie  of  love  is  not  severed  because  we  differ  in 
judo^ment."  And  he  proceeded,  in  concert  with  his  friends,  to 
publish  the  celebrated  Suahian  Syyigramma^  in  which  he  re- 
plied to  the  arguments  of  GEcolampadius  with  boldness,  but 
with  respect  and  affection.  •'  If  an  emperor,"  say  the  authors 
of  the  Syngramma,  "  were  to  give  a  baton  or  a  wand  to  a  judge, 
saying,  '  Take — this  is  the  power  of  judging  :' — the  wand,  no 
doubt,  is  a  mere  sign  ;  but,  the  words  being  added  thereto,  the 
judge  has  not  merely  the  sign  of  the  power,  he  has  iYiefower 
itself" 

The  true  children  of  the  Reformation  might  admit  this  illus- 
tration. The  Syngramma  was  received  with  acclamations, 
and  its  authors  were  looked  upon  as  the  defenders  of  the  truth. 

♦  He  retained  the  usual  signification  of  the  word  w,  but  he  under- 
stood, by  bod]i^  a  sign  of  the  body. 


NEED    OF    UNITY    IN    ADVERSITY.  32l 

Several  divines,  and  even  some  laymen,  in  their  desire  to  share 
in  their  glory,  undertook  the  defence  of  the  doctrine  that  was 
assailed,  and  wrote  against  QScoIampadius. 

Then  it  was  Strasburg  interposed,  and  sought  to  mediate 
between  Switzerland  and  Germany.  Capito  andBucer  were 
disposed  for  peace ;  and,  in  their  view,  the  question  under  dis- 
cussion was  of  secondary  importance.  Accordingly  stepping 
between  the  two  parties,  they  sent  George  Cassel,  one  of  their 
colleagues,  to  Luther,  to  conjure  him  not  to  snap  the  link  of 
brotherhood  which  united  him  with  the  Swiss  divines. 

No  where  does  Luther's  character  display  itself  more  strik- 
ingly than  in  this  controversy  on  the  Lord's  Supper.  Never 
did  it  more  clearly  appear  with  what  firmness  he  maintained 
the  convictions  he  believed  to  be  those  of  a  Christian, — with 
what  faithfulness  he  established  them  on  the  authority  of  Scrip- 
ture alone, — his  sagacity  in  defending  them,  and  his  animated, 
eloquent,  and  often  overpowering  argumentation.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  never  was  there  a  more  abundant  exhibition  of  the 
obstinacy  with  which  he  brought  up  every  argument  for  his 
own  opinion,  the  little  attention  he  gave  to  his  opponents'  rea- 
soning, and  the  uncharitable  haste  with  which  he  attributed 
their  errors  to  the  wickedness  of  their  hearts,  and  the  machi- 
nations of  the  devil.  To  the  mediator  of  Strasburg  he  said, — 
"Either  the  one  party  or  the  other, — either  the  Swiss  or  we, 
— must  be  ministers  of  Satan." 

Such  were  what  Capito  termed  "  the  furies  of  the  Saxon 
Orestes  ;"  and  these  furies  were  succeeded  by  exhaustion.  Lu- 
ther's health  suffered.  One  day  he  fainted  in  the  arms  of  his 
wife  and  friends;  and,  for  a  whole  week,  he  was  as  if  "in 
death  and  hell."*  He  had  lost  Jesus  Christ,  he  said,  and  was 
driven  hither  and  thither  by  tempests  of  despair.  The  world 
was  about  to  pass  away,  and  prodigies  announced  that  the  last 
day  was  at  hand. 

But  these  divisions  among  the  friends  of  the  Reformation 
were  to  have  after  consequences  yet  more  to  be  deplored.  The 
Romish  divines  in  Switzerland  especially  boasted  of  being 
*  In  morte  et  in  inferno  jactatus.     (L,  Epp.  iii.  p.  132.) 


S22        STRUGGLES  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 

able  to  oppose  Luther  to  Zwingle.  And  yet,  if, — now  that 
three  centuries  have  passed  away, — the  recollection  of  these 
divisions  should  teach  Evangelical  Christians  the  precious 
lesson  of  Unity  in  diversity,  and  Love  in  liberty,  they  will  not 
have  happened  in  vain.  Even  at  the  time, — the  Reformers, 
by  thus  opposing  one  another,  proved  that  they  were  not  gov- 
erned by  blind  hatred  of  Rome,  but  that  Truth  was  the  great 
object  of  their  hearts.  It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  some- 
thing generous  in  such  conduct ;  and  its  disinterestedness  did 
not  fail  to  produce  some  fruit,  and  extort  from  enemies  them- 
selves a  tribute  of  interest  and  esteem. 

But  we  may  go  further,  and  here  again  we  discern  the 
Sovereign  hand  which  governs  all  events,  and  allows  nothing 
to  happen  but  what  makes  part  of  its  own  wise  plan.  Not- 
withstanding his  opposition  to  the  Papacy,  Luther  had  a  strong 
conservative  instinct.  Zwingle,  on  the  contrary,  was  predis- 
posed to  radical  reforms.  Both  these  divergent  tendencies 
were  needed.  If  Luther  and  his  followers  had  been  alone  in 
the  work,  it  would  have  stopped  short  in  its  progress ;  and  the 
principle  of  Reformation  would  not  have  wrought  its  des- 
tined effect.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  Zwingle  had  been  alone, 
— the  thread  would  have  been  snapped  too  abruptly,  and  the 
Reformation  would  have  found  itself  isolated  from  the  ages 
which  had  gone  before. 

These  two  tendencies,  which,  on  a  superficial  view,  might 
seem  present  only  to  conflict  together,  were,  on  the  contrary, 
ordained  to  be  the  complement  of  each  other, — and  now  that 
three  centuries  have  passed  away,  we  can  say  that  they  have 
fulfilled  their  mission. 

Thus,  on  all  sides,  the  Reformation  had  to  encounter  resist' 
ance;  and,  after  combating  the  rationalist  philosophy  of 
Erasmus,  and  the  fanatical  enthusiasm  of  the  Anabaptists,  it 
had,  in  addition,  to  settle  matters  at  home.  But  its  great  and 
lasting  struggle  was  against  the  Papacy; — and  the  assault, 
commenced  in  the  cities  of  the  plain,  was  now  carried  to  tiie 
most  distant  mountains. 

The  summits  of  Tockenburg  had  heard  the  sound  of  th© 


tVTAVLT    IN    THE    TOCKEXDURG.  323 

Gospel,  and  three  ecclesiastics  were  prosecuted  by  order  of 
the  bishop,  as  tainted  with  heresy.  "  Only  convince  us  by  the 
word  of  God,"  said  Militus,  Doring,  and  F  uer,  "  and  we 
will  humble  ourselves,  not  only  before  the  chapter,  but  before 
the  very  least  of  the  brethren  of  Jesus  Christ.  Otherwise, 
we  will  obey  no  one;  not  even  the  greatest  among-  men."* 

The  genuine  spirit  of  Zwingle  and  of  the  Reformation 
speaks  out  in  these  words.  It  was  not  long  before  a  new  in- 
cident occurred  to  inflame  the  minds  of  the  mountaineers.  A 
meeting  of  the  people  took  place  on  St.  Catherine's  day ;  the 
townsmen  gathered  in  groups,  and  two  men  of  Schwitz,  whose 
business  had  called  them  to  the  Tockenburg,  were  seated  to- 
gether at  one  of  the  tables.  They  entered  into  conversation : 
— "  Ulric  Zwingle,"  exclaimed  one  of  them,  "  is  a  heretic  and 
a  robber."  The  Secretary  Steiger  defended  the  Reformation. 
Their  loud  voices  attracted  the  attention  of  the  meetinsf. 
George  Bruggman,  uncle  to  Zwingle,  who  was  seated  at  an 
adjoining  table,  angrily  left  his  seat,  exclaiming,  "Surely 
they  are  speaking  of  Master  Ulric  ;"  on  which  the  guests  all 
rose  up  and  followed,  apprehending  a  disturbance.!  The 
tumult  increased ;  the  bailiff  hastily  collected  the  Town- 
council  in  the  open  street,  and  Bruggman  was  requested,  for 
the  sake  of  peace,  to  content  himself  with  saying,  "  If  you  do 
not  retract  your  words,  it  is  yourselves  who  are  liars  and 
thieves."  "  Recollect  what  you  have  just  said,"  answered  the 
men  of  Sciiwitz,  "  we  will  not  forget  it "  This  said,  they 
mounted  their  horses,  and  set  forward  at  full  speed  for 
Schwitz.  J: 

The  government  of  Schwitz  addressed  to  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Tockenburg,  a  letter,  which  spread  terror  wherever  it 
came.     "Stand  firm  and  fear  nothing,"^  Avrote  Zwingle  to 

*  Ne  potentissimo  quidem,  sed  soli  Deo  ej  usque  verbo.  (Zw.  Epp. 
p.  370.) 

t  Totumque  convivium  sequi,  grandem  conflictum  timentes.  (Ibid, 
p.  371.) 

t  Auf  solches,  ritten  sie  wieder  heim,     (Ibid.  p.  374.) 

§  Macti  animo  este  et  interriti.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  35L) 


3^4 


MEETING    AT    ILANTZ. 


the  Council  of  his  native  place:  "  Let  not  the  lies  they  circu- 
late concerning  me  disturb  you.  There  is  no  brawler  but  has 
the  power  to  call  me  heretic  ;  but  do  you  avoid  all  insulting 
language,  tumults,  excesses,  and  mercenary  war.  Relieve  the 
poor ;  espouse  the  cause  of  the  oppressed ;  and  whatever  in- 
sults may  be  heaped  upon  you,  hold  fast  your  confidence  in 
Almighty  God."* 

ZwingJe's  exhortations  had  the  desired  effect.  The  Coun- 
cil were  still  hesitating ;  but  the  people  gathering  together  in 
their  several  parishes,  unanimously  resolved  that  the  Mass 
should  be  abolished  and  the  word  of  God  adhered  to.f 

The  progress  of  the  work  was  not  less  marked  in  Rhetia, 
from  whence  Salandronius  had  been  compelled  to  take  his  de- 
parture, but  where  Comander  was  preaching  with  much  bold- 
ness. It  is  true  that  the  Anabaptists,  by  their  fanatical  preach- 
ings in  the  country  of  the  Grisons,  had  at  first  been  a  great 
hindrance  to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation.  The  people  had 
split  into  three  parties.  Some  had  embraced  the  doctrines  of 
those  pretended  prophets:  others  in  silent  astonishment  medi- 
tated with  anxiety  on  the  schism  that  had  declared  itself 
And,  lastly,  the  partisans  of  Rome  were  loud  in  their  ex- 
ultations. | 

A  meeting  was  held  at  Ilantz,  in  the  Grison  league,  for  the 
purpose  of  a  discussion.  The  supporters  of  the  Papacy,  on 
one  hand,  the  favourers  of  the  Reformation  on  the  other,  col- 
lected their  forces.  The  bishop's  vicar  at  first  laboured  to 
avoid  the  dispute.  "  Such  disputations  are  attended  with  con- 
siderable expenses,"  said  he  ;  "I  am  ready  to  put  down  ten 
thousand  florins,  in  order  to  defray  them,  but  I  expect  the  op- 

*  Verbis  diris  abstinete  ,  .  ,  .  opera  ferte  egenis  ....  spem  cer- 
tissimam  in  Deo  reponatis  omnipotente.  (Ibid.)  Either  the  date  of 
one  of  the  letters,  14th  and  23d  of  1524,  must  be  a  mistake,  or  one 
letter  from  Zwingle  to  his  fellow-countrymen  of  the  Tockenburg  must 
be  lost. 

t  Parochiae  uno  consensu  statuerunt  in  verbo  Dei  manere.  (Zw. 
Epp.  p.  423.) 

t  Pars  tertia  papistarum  est  in  immensum  gloriantium  de  schismate 
inter  nos  facto.     (Ibid.  p.  400.'> 


825 

posite  party  to  do  as  much."  "  If  the  bishop  has  ten  thou- 
sand florins  at  his  disposal,"  exclaimed  the  rough  voice  of  a 
countryman  in  the  crowd,  '*  it  is  from  us  he  has  extorted 
them ;  to  give  such  poor  priests  as  much  more  would  be  a 
little  too  bad."  "  We  are  a  poor  set  of  people,"  said  Coman- 
der,  the  pastor  of  Coira  .  "  we  can  scarcely  pay  for  our  soup, 
where  then  can  we  raise  ten  thousand  florins  "*  Every  one 
laughed  at  this  stratagem,  and  the  business  proceeded. 

Among  those  present  were  Sebastian  Hofmeister  and  James 
Amman  of  Zurich.  They  held  m  their  hands  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  in  Hebrew  and  Greek.  The  bishop's  vicar 
moved  that  strangers  be  desired  to  withdraw.  Hofmeister 
understood  this  to  be  directed  against  him.  "  We  have  come 
provided,"  said  he,  "  with  a  Hebrew  and  Greek  Bible,  in 
order  that  none  may  in  any  way  do  violence  to  the  Scripture. 
However,  sooner  than  stand  in  the  way  of  the  conference 
we  are  willing  to  retire."  "Ah!"  cried  the  curate  of  Dint- 
zen,  as  he  glanced  at  the  books  the  two  Zurichers  held  in 
their  hands,  "  if  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  languages  had  never 
obtained  entrance  into  our  country,  there  would  be  fewer 
heresies  among  us."t  "St.  Jerome,"  observed  another,  "has 
translated  the  Bible  for  us,  and  we  don't  want  the  Jewish 
books."  "If  the  Zurichers  are  excluded,"  said  the  banneret 
of  Ilantz,  the  commune  w^ill  move  in  the  affair."  "  Well," 
replied  the  others,  "  let  them  listen,  but  let  them  be  silent." 
The  Zurichers  were  accordingly  allowed  to  remain,  and 
their  Bible  with  them. 

Comander,  rising  in  his  place,  read  from  the  first  of  his 
published  theses — "The  Christian  Church  is  born  of  the 
word  of  God.  Its  duty  is  to  hold  fast  that  Word,  and  not  to 
give  ear  to  any  other  voice."  He  proceeded  to  establish 
what  he  advanced  by  numerous  passages  from  the  Scriptures. 
"  He  went  boldly  forward,"  says  an  eye-witness,  "  planting 

*  Sie  waren  gute  arme  Gesellen  mit  lehren  Secklen.  (Fiissl,  Beytr. 
i.  p.  353.) 

t  Ware   die   Griechiscbe    und    Hebraische    Sprache    nicht    in   das 
Land  gekommen.  (Ibid.  p.  360,) 
VOL.  III.  28 


326  DOCTRINE  OF  THE  SACRAMENT. 

his  foot,  at  every  step,  with  the  firmness  of  an  ox's  tread."* 
"  This  will  last  all  day,"  said  the  vicar. — "  When  he  is  at 
table  with  his  friends,  listening  to  those  who  play  the  flute, 
he  does  not  grudge  the  time,"t  remarked  Hofmeister. 

Just  then  one  of  the  spectators  left  his  seat,  and  elbowing  his 
passag-e  through  the  crowd,  forced  his  way  up  to  Comander, 
waving  his  arms,  scowling  on  the  Reformer,  and  knitting  his 
brows.  He  seemed  like  one  beside  himself;  and  as  he  bustled 
up  to  Comander,  many  thought  he  vas  going  to  strike  him.J 
He  was  a  schoolmaster  of  Coira.  "  I  have  written  down 
various  questions  for  you  to  answer,"  said  he  to  Comander : 
"  answer  them  directly."  "  I  stand  here,"  said  the  Reformer 
of  the  Grisons,  "to  defend  my  teaching.  Do  you  attack  it, 
and  I  will  answer  you  ;  or,  if  not,  go  back  to  your  place.  I 
will  reply  to  you  when  I  have  done."  The  schoolmaster  de- 
liberated for  an  instant.  "  Well,"  said  he,  at  last, — and  re- 
turned to  his  seat. 

It  was  proposed  to  proceed  to  consider  the  doctrine  of  the 
Sacrament.  The  abbot  of  St.  Luke's  declared  that  it  was 
not  without  awe  that  he  approached  such  a  subject ;  and  the 
vicar  devoutly  crossed  himself  in  fear. 

The  schoolmaster  of  Coira,  who  had  before  showed  his 
readiness  to  attack  Comander,  with  much  volubility  began  to 
argue  for  the  received  doctrine  of  the  Sacrament,  grounding 
what  he  said  on  the  words, — "  This  is  my  bod3^"  "  My  dear 
Berre,"  said  Comander  to  him,  "  how  do  you  understand  these 
words, — John  is  Elias?"  "  I  understand."  replied  Berre,  who 
saw  Comander's  object  in  the  question,  "  I  understand  that  he 
was  truly  and  essentially  Elias."  "  And  why  then,"  continued 
Comander,  "did  John  the  Baptist  himself  say  to  the  Pharisees 
that  he  was  not  Elias  ?"  The  schoolmaster  was  silent ;  and 
at  last  ejaculated, — "  It  is  true."  All  laughed, — even  the 
friends  who  had  urged  him  to  speak. 

*  Satzte  den  Fuss  wie  ein  miider  Ochs.     (Ftissl.  Beytr.  i.  p.  362.) 

t  Den  Pfeiffern  zuzuhoren,  die  ....  wie  den  Fiirsten  hofierten. 
(Ibid.) 

t  Blintzete  mit  den  Augen,  rumpfete  die  Stirne.  (Fiissl.  Beytr.  i. 
p.  368.) 


PROPOSED    PUBLIC    DISCUSSION.  327 

The  abbot  of  Saint  Luke's  spoke  at  much  length  on  the 
Supper  ;  and  the  conference  was  finally  closed.  Seven  priests 
embraced  the  Gospel.  The  most  perfect  religious  liberty  was 
proclaimed;  and  in  several  of  the  churches  the  Romish  wor- 
ship was  abolished.  "  Christ,"  to  use  the  words  of  Salandro- 
nius,  "grew  up  every  where  in  the  mountains,  like  the  tender 
grass  of  the  spring,  and  his  ministers  were  like  living  foun- 
tains, watering  those  Alpine  pastures."* 

The  Reformation  was  advancing,  with  yet  more  rapid  strides, 
in  Zurich.  Dominicans,  Augustines,  Capucins,  so  long  op- 
posed to  each  other,  were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  living  to- 
gether ; — an  anticipated  purgatory  for  these  poor  monks.  In 
place  of  those  degenerated  institutions  were  founded  schools, 
an  hospital,  a  theological  seminary.  Learning  and  charity 
everywhere  took  the  place  of  sloth  and  selfishness. 

These  triumphs  of  the  Reformation  could  not  escape  notice. 
The  monks,  the  priests,  and  their  prelates,  not  knowing  how  to 
move,  everywhere  felt  that  the  ground  was  passing  from  under 
their  feet ;  and  that  the  Church  was  on  the  point  of  sinking 
under  its  unprecedented  dangers.  The  oligarchs  of  the  can- 
tons,— the  hired  supporters  of  foreign  capitulations,  perceived 
there  was  no  time  to  be  lost,  if  they  wished  to  preserve  their 
own  privileges  ;  and  at  the  moment  when  the  Church,  in  her 
terror,  was  sinking  into  the  earth,  they  again  tendered  her  the 
support  of  their  arms  bristling  with  steel.  A  John  Faber  was 
reinforced  by  a  Stein  or  John  Hug  of  Lucerne,  and  the  civil 
authority  came  forward  to  assist  that  power  of  the  hierarchy 
which  opens  his  mouth  to  blaspheme  and  makes  war  against 
the  saints. t 

Public  opinion  had  for  a  long  while  demanded  a  conference. 
No  other  way  appeared  of  quelling  the  people.;};  "  Only  con- 
vince us  from  the  Scriptures,"  said  the  Council  of  Zurich  to 
the  Diet,  "  and  we  will  fall  in  with  your  desires."     "  The 

*  Vita,  moribus  et  doctrina  herbescenti  Christo  apud  Rhoetos  fons 
irrigans.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  485.)  t  Rev,  xiii. 

X  Das  der  graeiu  man,  one  eine  oflfne  disputation,  nitt  zu  stillen, 
was.    (Biillinw.  Chr.  i,  p.  33i,) 


328  DECISION    OF    THE    DIET. 

Zurichers,"  said  the  people,  "  have  given  you  their  promise; 
if  you  are  able  to  refute  them  from  the  Scriptures,  why  not  do 
it?  And  if  not  able,  why  not  yourselves  conform  to  the 
Bible?" 

The  conferences  at  Zurich  had  had  a  mighty  influence  ;  it 
seemed  politic  to  oppose  to  them  a  conference  held  in  a  city  m 
the  interest  of  Rome ;  taking  at  the  same  time  all  necessary 
precautions  to  secure  the  victor}'-  to  the  Pope's  party. 

It  is  true  that  the  same  party  had  declared  such  discussions 
unlawful, — but  a  door  of  evasion  was  found  to  escape  that  dif- 
ficulty ;  for,  said  they,  all  that  it  is  proposed  to  do  is  to  declare 
and  condemn  the  pestilent  doctrine  of  Zwingle.*  This  diffi- 
culty obviated,  they  looked  about  them  for  a  sturdy  disputant 
and  Doctor  Eck  offered  himself  He  had  no  fear  of  the  issue. 
"  Zwingle,  no  doubt,  has  more  knowledge  of  cows  than  of 
books,"!  observed  he,  as  Hofmeister  reports. 

The  Grand  Council  of  Zurich  despatched  a  safe-conduct  for 
Eck  to  repair  direct  to  Zurich ;  but  Eck  answered  that  he 
would  await  the  answer  of  the  Confederation.  Zwingle,  on 
this,  proposed  to  dispute  at  St.  Gall,  or  at  Schaffhausen,  but 
the  Council,  grounding  its  decision  on  an  article  in  the  federal 
compact,  which  provided  that  any  person  accused  of  misde- 
meanor should  be  tried  in  the  place  of  his  abode,  enjoined 
Zwingle  to  retract  his  offer. 

The  Diet  at  length  came  to  the  decision  that  a  conference 
should  take  place  at  Baden,  and  appointed  the  16th  of  May, 
1526.  This  meeting  promised  important  consequpnces ;  for 
it  was  the  result  and  the  seal  of  that  alliance  that  had  just  been 
concluded  between  the  power  of  the  Church  and  the  aristocrats 
of  the  Confederation.  "  See,"  said  Zwingle  to  Vadian,  "  what 
these  oligarchs  and  FaberJ  are  daring  enough  to  attempt." 

Accordingly,  the  decision  to  be  expected  from  the  Diet  was 
a  question  of  deep  interest  in  Switzerland.     None  could  doubt 

*  Diet  of  Lucerne,  13th  of  March,  1526. 

t  Er  habe  wohl  niehr  Kuhe  gemolken  als  Biicher  gelesen.     (Zw. 
0pp.  ii.  p.  405.) 
t  Vide  nunc  quid  audeant  oligarchi  ataue  Faber.    (Zw.  Epp.  p.  484.) 


ZWINGLE    IN    DANGER.  329 

thai  a  conference  held  under  such  auspices  would  be  any  thing- 
but  auspicious  to  the  Reformation.  Were  not  the  five  cantons 
most  devoted  to  the  Pope's  views  paramount  in  influence  in 
Baden  ?  Had  they  not  already  condemned  Zwingle's  doc- 
trine, and  pursued  it  with  fire  and  sword  ?  At  Lucerne  had 
he  not  been  burnt  in  effigy  with  every  expression  of  contempt? 
At  Friburg  had  not  his  writings  been  consigned  to  the  flames  1 
Throughout  the  five  cantons  was  not  his  death  demanded  by 
popular  clamour?  The  cantons  that  exercised  a  sort  of  suze- 
rainty in  Baden,  had  they  not  declared  that  Zwingle  should 
be  seized  if  he  set  foot  on  any  part  of  their  territory  ?*  Had 
not  Uberlinger,  one  of  their  chiefs,  declared  that  he  only  wished 
he  had  him  in  his  power  that  he  might  hang  him,  though  he 
should  be  called  an  executioner  as  long  as  he  lived  ?t  And 
Doctor  Eck  himself,  had  he  not  for  years  past  called  for  fire 
and  sword  as  the  only  methods  to  be  resorted  to  against  here- 
tics?— What  then  must  be  the  end  of  this  conference,  and 
what  result  can  it  have  but  the  death  of  the  Reformer  ? 

Such  were  the  fears  that  agitated  the  commission  appointed 
at  Zurich,  to  examine  into  the  matter.  Zwingle,  beholding 
their  agitation  rose  and  said,  "  You  know  what  happened  at 
Baden  to  the  valiant  men  of  Stammheim,  and  how  the  blood 
of  the  Wirths  stained  the  scaffold — and  yet  we  are  summoned 
to  the  very  place  of  their  execution  !  Let  Zurich,  Berne, 
Saint  Gall,  or,  if  they  will,  Basle,  Constance,  or  Schaff'hausen 
be  chosen  for  the  conference;  let  it  be  agreed  that  none  but 
essential  points  shall  be  discussed,  that  the  word  of  God  shall 
be  the  only  standard  of  authority  which  nothing  shall  be  al- 
lowed to  supersede,  and  then  I  am  ready  to  come  forward." J 

Meanwhile,  fanaticism  was  already  aroused  and  was  striking 
down  her  victims.  On  the  10th  of  May,  1526,  that  is,  about 
a  week  before  the  discussion  at  Baden,  a  consistory,  headed  by 

*  Zwingli  in  ihrem  Gebiet,  wo  er  betreten  werde,  gefangen  zu 
nehmen.     (Zw.  0pp.  ii.  p.  422.) 

t  Da  wollte  er  gem   all  sein  Lebtag   ein  Henker   genannt  werden, 
(Ibid.  p.  454.) 

X  Wellend  wir  ganz  geneigt  syn  ze  erschynen.     (Zw.  0pp.  ii.  423.) 
28* 


330  THE    DISPUTANTS    AT    BADEK. 

the  same  Faber  who  challenged  Zvvingle,  condemned  to  the 
flames,  as  a  heretic,  an  evangelical  minister  named  John 
Hiigle,  pastor  of  Lindau,*  who  sang  the  Te  Deum  while 
walking  to  the  place  of  execution.  At  the  same  time,  another 
minister,  named  Peter  Spengler  was  drowned  at  Friburg,  by 
ordnr  of  the  bishop  of  Constance. 

Gloomy  tidings  reached  Zwingle  from  all  sides.  His 
brother-in-law,  Leonard  Tremp,  wrote  to  him  from  Berne: 
"  I  conjure  you  as  you  value  your  life,  not  to  repair  to  Baden. 
I  know  that  they  will  not  respect  your  safe-conduct."f 

It  was  confidently  asserted  that  a  project  had  been  formed 
to  seize,  gag,  and  throw  him  into  a  boat  which  should  carry 
him  off  to  some  secret  place.:{:  Taking  into  consideration 
these  threats  of  danger  and  death,  the  Council  of  Zurich  re- 
solved that  Zwingle  should  not  go  to  Bad^n.^ 

The  day  for  the  discussion  being  fixed  for  the  19th  of  May, 
the  disputants  and  representatives  of  the  cantons  and  bishops 
slowly  collected.  First,  on  the  side  of  the  Roman  Catholics, 
appeared  the  pompous  and  boastful  Eck  ;  on  the  Protestant 
side,  the  modest  and  gentle  (Ecolampadius.  The  latter  was 
fully  sensible  of  the  perils  attending  this  discussion  : — "  Long 
had  he  hesitated,"  says  an  ancient  historian,  '•  like  a  timid  stag, 
worried  by  furious  dogs  ;"  at  length  he  decided  on  proceeding 
to  Baden  ;  first  making  this  solemn  protestation — "  I  recog- 
nise no  other  rule  of  judgment  than  the  word  of  God."  He 
had,  at  first,  much  wished  that  Zwingle  should  share  his  per- 
ils ;||  but  he  soon  saw  reason  to  believe  that  if  the  intrepid 
doctor  had  shown  himself  in  that  fanatical  city,  the  anger  of 
the  Roman  Catholics,  kindling  at  the  sight  of  him,  would 
have  involved  them  both  in  destruction. 

The  first  step  was  to  determine  the  laws  which  should  re- 

*  Hunc  hominem  haereticum  damnamus,  projicimus  et  conculcamus. 

(Hotting.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  300.) 

t  Caveatis  per  caput  vestrum.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  483.) 

t  Navigio  captum,  ere  mox  obturato,  clam  fuisse  deportandum.     (Osw. 

Myc.  Vit.  Zw.) 

§  Zwinglium  Senatus  Tigurinus  Badenam  dimittererecusavit.  (Ibid.) 
II  Si  periclitaberis,  periclitabimur  omnes  tecum.     (Zw.  Epp,  p.  3l2.) 


CONTRAST    OF    THE    PARTIES.  331 

gulate  the  controversy.  Eck  proposed  that  the  deputies  of  the 
Forest  Cantons  should  be  authorized  to  pronounce  the  final 
judgment, — a  proposal  which,  if  it  had  been  adopted,  would 
have  decided  befor<  (and  thecondemnntion  of  the  reformed  doc- 
trin'  s.  Thomas  Plater,  who  had  come  from  Zurich  to  attend 
the  conference,  was  despatched  by  (Ecolampadius  to  ask 
Zwingle's  advice.  Arriving  at  night,  he  was  with  difficulty 
admitted  into  the  Reformer's  house.  Zwingle,  waking  up 
and  rubbing  his  eyes,  exclaimed,  "  You  are  an  unseasonable 
visitant, — what  news  do  you  bring  ?  For  these  six  weeks 
past,  I  have  had  no  rest ;  thanks  to  this  dispute."*  Plater 
stat*^  d  what  Eck  required.  "  And  how,"  replied  Zwingle, 
"  can  those  peasants  be  made  to  understand  such  matters?  they 
would  be  much  more  at  home  in  milking  their  cows."t 

On  the  21st  of  May  the  conference  began.  Eck  and  Fa- 
ber,  accompanied  by  prelates,  magistrates,  and  doctors,  robed 
in  damask  and  silk,  and  bedizened  with  rings,  chains,  and 
crosses,}:  repaired  to  the  church.  Eck  haughtily  ascended  a 
pulpit  superbly  decorated,  whilst  the  humble  (Ecolampadius, 
meanly  clad,  sat  facing  his  adversary  upon  a  rudely  construct- 
ed platform.  "  During  the  whole  time  the  conference  lasted," 
says  the  chronicler  Bullinger,  "  Eck  and  his  party  wer--^.  lodg- 
ed in  the  parsonage  house  of  Baden,  faring  sumptuou;jiy,  liv- 
ing gaily  nnd  disorderly,  drinking  freely  the  wine  with  which 
they  were  supplied  by  the  abbot  of  Wettingen.§  Eck,  it  was 
said,  takes  the  baths  at  Baden,  but  it  is  in  wine  that  he  bathes. 
The  Reformers,  on  the  contrary,  made  but  a  sorry  appear- 
ance, and  were  scoffed  at  as  a  troop  p{  mendicants.  Their 
manner  of  life  afforded  a  striking  contrast  to  that  of  the  Pope's 
champions.  The  landlord  of  the  Pike,  the  inn  at  which 
CEcolampadius  lodged,  curious  to  see  how  the  latter  spent  his 
time  in  his  room,  reported  that  whenever  he  looked  in  on  him, 

*  Ich  bin  in  6  Wochen  nie  in  das  Beth  Kommen.     (Plater's  Leben. 
p.  263.) 

t  Sie  verstundcn  sich  bas  auf  Kuh  malken.     (Ibid.) 

t  Mit  Syden,  Damast  und  Sammet  bekleydet.     (Bull.  Chr.  i.  p.  351.) 

§  Verbruchten  vil  wyn.    (Ibid.) 


332  ECK    AND    (ECOLAMPADIUS. 

he  found  him  either  reading  or  praying.     It  must  be  confess- 
ed, said  he,  that  he  is  a  very  pious  heretic." 

The  discussion  lasted  eighteen  days;  and  every  morning 
the  clergy  of  Baden  went  in  solemn  procession,  chaunting 
litanies,  in  order  to  ensure  victory.  Eck  was  the  only  one 
who  spoke  in  defence  of  the  Romish  doctrines.  He  was  at 
Baden  exactly  what  he  was  at  Leipsic,  with  the  same  Ger- 
man twang,  the  same  broad  shoulders  and  sonorous  voice,  re- 
minding one  of  a  town-crier,  and  in  appearance  more  like  a 
butcher  than  a  divine.  He  was  vehement  in  disputing,  ac- 
cording to  his  usual  custom ;  trying  to  wound  his  opponents 
by  insulting  language,  and  even  now  and  then  breaking  out 
in  an  oath.*     The  president  never  called  him  to  order — 

Eck  stamps  his  feet,  and  claps  his  hands, 

He  raves,  he  swears,  he  scolds; 
*'  I  do,"  cries  he,  "  what  Rome  commands, 

And  teach  what'er  she  holds."t 

CEcolampadius,  on  the  contrary,  with  his  serene  counte- 
nance, his  noble  and  patriarchal  air,  spoke  with  so  much  mild- 
ness, but  at  the  same  time  with  so  much  ability  and  courage, 
that  even  his  antagonists,  affected  and  impressed,  whispered  to 
one  another,  "  Oh  that  the  tall  sallow  man  were  on  our  side."  J 
Sometimes,  indeed,  he  was  moved  at  beholding  the  hatred  and 
violence  of  his  auditors:  "Oh,"  said  he,  "with  what  impa- 
tience do  they  listen  to  me ;  but  God  will  not  forego  His 
glory,  and  it  is  that  only  that  we  seek."^ 

CEcolampadius  having  combated  Eck's  first  thesis,  which 
turned  on  the  real  presence,  Haller,  who  had  reached  Baden 
after  the  commencement  of  the  discussion,  entered  the  lists 
against  the  second.  Little  used  to  such  discussions,  constitu- 
tionally timid,  fettered  by  the  instructions  of  his  government, 

*  So  entwuscht  imm  ettwan  ein  Schiir.     (Bull.  Chr.  i.  p.  381.) 
t  Egg  zablet  mit  fussen  und  henden 
Fing  an  schelken  und  schenden,  etc, 
(Contemporaneous  Poems  of  Nicholas  Manuel  of  Berne.) 
t  O  were  der  lange  gal  man  ufTunser  syten.     (Bull.  Chr.  i.  p.  353.) 
§  Domino  suam  gloriam,  quam  salvam  cupimus  ne  utiquam  desertuor* 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  511.) 


333 

and  embarrassed  by  the  presence  of  its  chief  magistrate,  Gas- 
pard  Mullinen,  a  bitter  enemy  of  the  Reformation,  Haller  had 
none  of  the  confident  bearing-  of  his  antagonist ;  but  he  had 
more  real  strength.  When  Haller  had  concluded,  CEcolam- 
padius  again  entered  the  lists,  and  pressed  Eck  so  closely,  that 
the  latter  was  compelled  to  fall  back  upon  the  custom  of  the 
church.  "  In  our  Switzerland,"  answered  CEcolampadius, 
"custom  is  of  no  force  unless  it  be  according  to  the  constitu- 
tion ;  now,  in  all  matters  of  faith,  the  Bible  is  our  constitution." 
The  third  thesis,  regarding  invocation  of  saints  ;  the  fourth, 
on  images;  the  fifth,  on  purgatory,  were  successively  dis- 
cussed. No  one  came  forward  to  dispute  the  two  last  theses, 
which  bore  reference  to  original  sin  and  baptism. 

Zwingle  took  an  important  part  in  the  whole  of  the  discus- 
sion. The  Catholic  party  had  appointed  four  secretaries,  and 
prohibited  all  other  persons  from  taking  notes  on  pain  of 
death.*  Nevertheless,  a  student  from  the  Valais,  named  Je- 
rome Walsch,  gifted  with  a  retentive  memory,  carefully  im- 
pressed upon  his  mind  all  that  he  heard,  and  upon  leaving  the 
assembly  privately  committed  his  recollections  to  writing. 
Thomas  Plater,  andZimmermann  of  Winterthur,  carried  these 
notes  to  Zwingle  every  day,  as  also  letters  from  (Ecola-mpa- 
dius,  and  brought  back  the  Reformer's  answers.  The  gates 
of  Baden  were  guarded  by  halberdiers,  and  it  was  only  by 
inventing  different  excuses  that  the  two  messengers  could  evade 
the  questions  of  the  soldiers,  who  were  at  a  loss  to  compre- 
hend why  these  youths  so  frequently  entered  and  quitted  the 
city.f  Thus  Zwingle,  though  absent  from  Baden  in  bodily 
presence,  was  with  them  in  spirit. 

He  advised  and  strengthened  his  friends,  and  refuted  his 
adversaries.     '*  Zwingle,"   says   Oswald   Myconius,  "  has  la- 

*  Man  soUte  einem  ohne  aller  welter  Urtheilen,  den  Kopfabhauen. 
(Thorn.  Plateri.  Lebens  Beschreib.  p.  262.) 

t  When  I  v/as  asked,  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  I  replied,  "  I  am 
carrying  chickens  to  sell  to  the  gentlemen  who  are  come  to  the  baths:"  - 
the  chickens  were  given  me  at  Zurich,  and  the  guards  could  not  under- 
stand how  it  was  that  I  always  got  them  so  fresh,  and  in  so  short  a  time, 
(Plater's  Autobiography.) 


334  MURNER    OF    LUCERNE. 

boured  more  in  meditating  upon  and  watching  the  contest, 
and  transmitting  his  advice  to  Baden,  than  he  could  have  done 
by  disputing  in  person  in  the  midst  of  his  enemies."* 

During  the  w^hole  time  of  the  conference  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics were  in  a  ferment,  publishing  abroad  the  report  of  advan- 
tages gained  by  them.  "  CEcolampadius,"  cried  they,  "  van- 
quished by  Eck,  lies  prostrate  on  the  field,  and  sues  for  quar- 
ter ;t  the  Pope's  authority  will  be  every  where  restored. "| 
These  statements  were  industriously  circulated  throughout  the 
cantons,  and  the  many,  prompt  to  believe  every  rumour,  gave 
credit  to  these  vauntings  of  the  partisans  of  Rome. 

The  discussion  being  concluded,  the  monk  Murner  of  Lu- 
cerne, nicknamed  the  "  tom-cat,"  came  forward  and  read  forty 
articles  of  accusation  against  Zwingle.  "  I  thought,"  said  he, 
"that  the  dastard  would  appear  and  answer  for  himself,  but  he 
has  not  done  so :  I  am  therefore  justified  by  every  law,  both 
human  and  divine,  in  declaring  forty  times  over,  that  the  tyrant 
of  Zurich  and  all  his  partisans  are  rebels,  liars,  perjured  per- 
sons, adulterers,  infidels,  thieves,  robbers  of  temples,  fit  only 
for  the  gallows  ;  and  that  any  honest  man  must  disgrace  him- 
self if  he  hold  any  intercourse  with  them,  of  what  kind  soever." 
Such  was  the  opprobrious  language  which,  at  that  time,  was 
honoured  with  the  name  of  "  Christian  controversy,"  by 
divines  whom  the  Church  of  Rome  herself  might  well  blush 
to  acknowledge. 

Great  agitation  prevailed  at  Baden  ;  the  general  feeling 
was  that  the  Reformers  were  overcome  not  by  force  of  argu- 
ments, but  by  power  of  lungs.§  Only  GEcolampndius  and 
ten  of  his  friends  signed  a  protest  against  the  theses  of  Eck, 

*  Cluam  laborasset  disputando  vel  inter  medios  hostes.  (Osw.  Myc. 
Vit.  Zw.)  See  the  various  writings  composed  by  Zwingle  relative  to  the 
Baden  conference.     (0pp.  ii.  p.  398,  520. 

t  CEcolampadius  victUs  jacet  in  arena  prostratus  ab  Eccio,  herbam  por- 
rexit.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  514.) 

t  Spem  concipiunt  laetam  fore  ut  regnum  ipsorum  restituatur.  (Ibid, 
p.  513.) 

§  Die  Evangelische  weren  wol  uberschryen,  nicht  aber  uberdisputieri 
Wordcn.     (Hotting.  Helv.  K.  Gesch.  iii.  p.  320.) 


HALLER  AND  TH£  COUNCIL  OF  BERNE.      335 

» 

whilst  they  Avere  adopted  by  no  h^ss  than  eighty  persons,  in- 
cluding those  who  had  presided  at  the  discussion,  and  all  the 
monks  of  Wittengen.  Haller  had  left  Baden  before  the  ter- 
mination of  the  conference. 

The  majority  of  the  Diet  then  decreed,  that  as  Zwingle,  the 
leader  in  th°se  pernicious  doctrines,  refused  to  appear,  and  as 
the  ministers  who  had  come  to  Baden  hardened  themselves 
against  conviction,  both  the  one  and  the  others  were  in  conse- 
quence cast  out  from  the  bosom  of  the  church.* 

But  this  celebrated  contest,  which  had  originated  in  the  zeal 
of  the  oligarchs  and  the  clergy,  was  yet  in  its  effects  to  be  fatal 
to  both.  Those  who  had  contended  for  the  Gospel,  returning 
to  their  homes,  infused  into  their  fellow-citizens  an  enthusiasm 
for  the  cause  they  had  defended;  and  Berne  and  Basle,  two 
of  the  most  influential  cantons  of  the  Helvetic  confederation, 
began  thenceforth  to  fall  away  from  the  ranks  of  the  Papacy. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  OEcolampadius  would  be  the  first 
to  suffer,  the  rather  as  he  was  not  a  native  of  Switzerland; 
and  it  was  not  without  some  fear  that  he  returned  to  Basle. 
But  his  alarm  was  quickly  dissipated.  His  gentle  words  had 
sunk  deeply  into  those  unprejudiced  minds  which  had  been 
closed  against  the  vociferations  of  Eck ;  and  he  was  received 
with  acclamations  by  all  men  of  piety.  His  adversaries,  it  is 
true,  used  all  their  efforts  to  exclude  him  from  the  pulpit,  but 
in  vain  :  he  taught  and  preached  with  greater  energy  than 
before,  and  never  had  the  people  manifested  a  more  ardent 
thirst  for  the  word  of  the  Lord.f 

The  course  of  events  at  Berne  was  of  a  similar  character. 
The  conference  at  Baden,  which  it  had  been  hoped  would 
stifle  the  Reformation,  gave  to  it  a  new  impulse  in  this  the 
most  powerful  of  the  Swiss  cantons.  No  sooner  had  Haller 
arrived  in  the  capital,  than  the  inferior  Council  summoned  him 
before  them,  and  commanded  him  to  celebrate  mass.  Haller 
asked  leave  to  answer  before  the  Grand  Council ;  and  the 
people  came  together,  thinking  it  behoved  them  to  defend  their 

*  Von  gemeiner  Kylchen  ussgestossen.     (Bull.  Chr.  p.  355.) 
t  Plebe  Verbi  Domini  admodum  sitiente.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  518.) 


336  REFORMATION    IN    ST.    GALL. 

m 
pastor.     Haller,  in  alarm,  declared  that  he  would  rather  quit 

the  city  than  be  the  innocent  occasion  of  disorders.  Upon 
this,  tranquillity  being  restored,  "  If,"  said  the  Reformer,  "  I 
am  required  to  perform  mass  I  must  resign  my  office:  the 
honour  of  God  and  the  truth  of  His  holy  Word  lie  nearer  to 
my  heart  than  any  care  what  '  I  shall  eat,  or  wherewithal  I 
shall  be  clothed.'  "  Haller  uttered  these  words  with  much 
emotion;  the  members  of  the  Council  were  affected;  even 
some  of  his  opponents  were  moved  to  tears.*  Once  more  was 
moderation  found  to  be  strength.  To  meet  in  some  measure 
the  requirements  of  Rome,  Haller  was  removed  from  his  office 
of  canon,  but  appointed  preacher.  His  most  violent  enemies, 
Lewis  and  Anthony  von  Diesbach  and  Anthony  von  Erlach, 
indignant  at  this  decision,  immediately  withdrew  from  the 
Council  and  the  city,  and  threw  up  their  rank  as  citizens. 
"Berne  stumbled,"  said  Haller,  "but  she  has  risen  up  in 
greater  strength  than  ever."  This  firmness  of  the  Bernese 
made  a  powerful  impression  in  Switzerland.! 

But  the  effects  of  the  conference  of  Baden  were  not  confined 
to  Berne  and  Basle.  While  these  events  were  occurring  in 
those  powerful  cities,  a  movement  more  or  less  of  the  same 
character  was  in  progress  in  several  other  states  of  the  Con- 
federation. The  preachers  of  St.  Gall,  on  their  return  from 
Baden,  proclaimed  the  Gospel.J  At  the  conclusion  of  a 
public  meeting,  the  images  were  removed  from  the  parish 
church  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  inhabitants  parted  with  their 
costly  dresses,  jewels,  rings,  and  gold  chains,  that  they  might 
employ  the  money  in  works  of  charity.  The  Reformation 
did,  it  is  true,  strip  men  of  their  possessions,  but  it  was  in  order 
that  the  poor  might  be  clothed;  and  the  only  worldly  goods 
it  claimed  the  surrender  of  were  those  of  the  Reformed 
themselves.  § 

♦  Tillier,  Gesch.  v.  Bern.,  iii.  p.  SIS. 

t  Profuit  hie  nobis  Bernates  tarn  dextre  in  servando  Berchtoldo  9U0 
egisse.     (Ecol.  ad.  Zw.  Epp.  p.  518.) 

{  San  Gallenses  officiis  suis  restitutes.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  518.) 

§  Kostbare  Kleider,  Kleinodien,  Ring,  Ketten,  etc.  freywillig  verkaufl. 
(Hott.  iii,  p.  338.) 


CONRAD    PELICAN.  337 

At  Mulhaiisen  the  preaching  was  continued  with  unwearied 
boldness.  Thurgovia  and  the  Rhenish  provinces  daily  d:e\v 
nearer  to  the  doctrine  held  in  Zurich.  Immediately  after  the 
conference,  Zurzach  abolished  the  use  of  images  in  its  church- 
es, and  almost  the  whole  district  of  Baden  received  the  Gospel. 

Nothing  can  show  more  clearly  than  such  facts  as  these 
which  party  had  really  triumphed.  Hence  we  find  Zwingle, 
contemplating  what  was  passing  around  him,  giving  thanks 
to  God  : — "  Manifold  are  their  attacks,"  said  he,  "  but  the  Lord 
is  above  all  their  threatenings  and  all  their  violence; — a  won- 
derful unanimity  in  behalf  of  the  Gospel  prevails  in  the  city 
and  canton  of  Zurich — we  shall  overcome  all  things  by  the 
prayer  of  faith."*  Shortly  afterwards,  writing  to  Haller,  he 
expressed  himself  thus:  "Every  thing  here  below  follows  its 
appointed  course  : — after  the  rude  northern  blast  comes  the 
gentle  breeze.  The  scorching  heat  of  summer  is  succeeded 
by  the  treasures  of  autumn.  And  now  after  stern  contests,  the 
Creator  of  all  things,  whom  we  serve,  has  opt  ned  for  us  a 
passage  into  the  enemy's  camp.  We  are  at  last  permitted  to 
receive  among  us  the  Christian  doctrine,  that  dove  so  long 
denied  entrance,  but  which  has  never  ceased  to  watch  for  the 
hour  when  she  iriight  return.  Be  thou  the  Noah  to  receive 
and  shelter  her." 

This  same  year  Zurich  made  an  important  acquisition. 
Conrad  Pellican,  superior  of  the  Franciscan  convent  at  Basle, 
professor  of  theology  when  only  twenty-four  years  of  age,  had, 
through  the  interest  of  Zwingle,  been  chosen  to  fill  the  office 
of  Hebrew  professor  at  Zurich.  On  his  arrival  he  said,  "  I 
have  long  since  renounced  the  Pope,  and  desired  to  live  to 
Christ."t  Pellican's  critical  talents  rendered  him  one  of  the 
most  useful  labourers  in  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation. 

Early  in  1527,  Zurich,  still  excluded  from  the  Diet  by  the 
Romish  cantons,  and  wishing  to  take  advantage  of  the  more 
favourable  disposition  manifested  by  some  of  the  confederates, 

*  Fideli  enim  oratione  omnia  superabimus.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  519.) 
t  Jamdudum  papae  renuntiavi  et  Christo  vivere  ccncupivi.     (Ibid,  jv 
455.) 

VOL.  III.  29 


338  THE    MOrNTAINEERS, 

convened  an  assembly  within  her  own  walls.  It  was  attended 
by  deputies  from  Berne,  Basle,  Schaffhauscn,  Appenzell 
and  Saint  Gall.  "  We  require,"  said  the  deputies  of  Zurich, 
"  that  God's  word,  which  alone  leads  us  to  Christ  crucified,  be 
the  one  thing  preached,  taught,  and  exalted.  We  renounce 
all  doctrines  of  men,  whatever  may  have  been  the  custom  of 
our  forefathers;  being  well  assured  that  if  they  had  been 
visited  by  this  divine  light  of  the  Word,  which  we  enjoy,  they 
would  have  embraced  it  with  more  reverence  than  we,  their 
im worthy  descendants."*  The  deputies  present  promised  to 
take  into  consideration  the  representations  made  by  their 
brethren  of  Zurich. 

Thus  the  breach  in  the  walls  of  Rome  was  every  day 
widened.  The  Baden  conference  it  was  hoped  would  have 
repaired  it ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  from  that  time  forward  the 
cantons  that  had  hitherto  been  only  doubtful  appeared  willing 
to  make  common  cause  with  Zurich.  The  Reformation  was 
already  spreading  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  plain,  and  be- 
ginning to  ascend  the  sides  of  the  mountains  ; — and  the  more 
ancient  cantons,  which  had  been  as  the  cradle  and  are  still  the 
citadel  of  Switzerland — seemed  in  their  alpine  inclosures  alone 
to  adhere  faithfully  to  the  religion  of  their  fathers.  These 
mountaineers,  constantly  exposed  to  violent  storms,  avalanches, 
and  overflowing  torrents,  are  all  their  lives  obliged  to  struggle 
against  these  formidable  enemies,  and  to  sacrifice  every  thing 
for  the  preservation  of  the  pastures  where  their  flocks  graze, 
and  the  roofs  which  shelter  them  from  the  tempest,  and  which 
at  any  moment  may  be  swept  away  by  an  inundation.  Hence 
a  conservative  principle  is  strikingly  developed  among  them, 
and  has  been  transmitted  from  generation  to  generation.  W^ith 
these  children  of  the  mountains,  wisdom  consists  in  preserving 
what  they  have  inherited  from  their  fathers. 

At  the  period  we  are  recording  these  rude  Helvetians  strug- 
glfd  against  the  Reformation  that  came  to  change  their  faith 
and   worship,  as  at  this  very  hour  they  contend  against  the 

♦  Mit  hoherem  Werth  und  mehr  Dankbarkeit  dannwir  angenommen. 
(Zurich  Arehiv.  Absch.  Sonntag  nach  Lichtmesse.) 


ALLIANCE    WITH    AUSTRIA.  339 

roaring  waters  which  tumble  from  their  snow-clad  hills,  or 
against  those  modern  notions  and  politics  which  have  es- 
tablished themselves  in  the  adjoining  cantons.  They  will 
probably  be  the  very  last  to  lay  down  their  arms  before  that 
twofold  power  which  has  already  planted  its  standard  on  the 
adjacent  hills,  and  is  steadily  gaining  ground  upon  these  con- 
servative communities. 

Accordingly,  these  cantons,  yet  more  irritated  against  Berne 
than  against  Zurich,  and  trembling  lest  that  powerful  state 
should  desert  their  interests,  assembled  their  deputies  in  Berne 
itself,  eight  days  after  the  conference  at  Zurich.  They  called 
on  the  Council  to  deprive  the  innovating  teachers  of  their 
office,  to  proscribe  their  doctrines,  and  to  maintain  the  ancient 
and  true  Christian  faith,  as  confirmed  by  past  ages  and  sealed 
by  the  blood  of  martyrs.  "  Convene  all  the  bailiwicks  of  the 
canton,"  added  they,  "  if  you  refuse  to  do  this,  we  will  take  it 
Upon  ourselves."  The  Bernese  were  irritated,  and  replied, 
"  We  require  no  assistance  in  the  directing  of  those  who  hold 
authority  under  us." 

This  answer  only  inflamed  the  anger  of  the  Forest  Cantons; 
and  those  very  cantons,  which  had  been  the  cradle  of  the  politi- 
cal liberty  of  Switzerland,  affrighted  at  the  progress  of  reli- 
gious liberty,  began  to  seek  even  foreign  alliances  in  order  to 
destroy  it.  In  opposing  the  enemies  of  the  capitulations  it 
seemed  to  them  reasonable  to  seek  the  aid  of  capitulations ; 
and  if  the  oligarchs  of  Switzerland  were  not  sufficiently  power- 
ful, it  was  natural  to  have  recourse  to  the  princes  their  allies. 
Austria,  who  had  found  it  impossible  to  maintain  her  own 
authority  in  the  Confederation,  was  ready  to  interfere  to 
strengthen  the  power  of  Rome.  Berne  learnt  with  terror  that 
Ferdinand,  brother  of  Charles  V.,  was  preparing  to  march 
against  Zurich,  and  all  those  who  took  part  with  the  Refor- 
mation.* 

Circumstances  were  becoming  more  trying.     A  succession 

of  events,  more  or  less  adverse,  such  as  the  excesses  of  the  Ana- 

*  Berne  a  Zurich,  le  lundi  apres  Misericorde.  (Kirchoff.  B.  Haller. 
p.  85.) 


340  FAREL    APPEARS. 

baptists,  the  disputes  with  Luther  concerning  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per,  and  other  causes,  seemed  to  have  compromised  the  pros- 
pects of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland.  The  conference  at 
Baden  had  disappointed  the  hopes  of  the  Papists,  and  the  sword 
which  they  had  brandished  against  their  opponents  had  been 
shivered  in  their  hands  ;  but  their  animosity  and  rage  did  but 
increase,  and  they  began  to  prepare  for  a  fresh  effort.  The 
Imperial  power  was  in  motion  ;  and  the  Austrian  bands,  which 
had  been  compelled  to  shameful  flight  from  the  defiles  of  Mor- 
garten  and  the  heights  of  Sempach,  stood  ready  to  enter  Switz- 
erland with  flying  banners,  to  confirm  the  tottering  authority 
of  Rome.  The  moment  was  critical :  it  was  no  longer  possi- 
ble to  halt  between  two  opinions  ; — to  be  "  neither  clear  nor 
muddy."  Berne  and  other  cantons  which  had  so  long  hesi- 
tated were  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  decision,  either  to  return 
without  loss  of  time  to  the  Papal  ranks,  or  to  take  their  stand 
with  boldness  on  the  side  of  Christ. 

Just  then  William  Farel,  a  Frenchman  from  the  mountains 
of  Dauphiny,  communicated  a  powerful  impulse  to  Switzer- 
land,— decided  the  reformation  of  the  western  cantons,  hitherto 
sunk  in  a  profound  slumber,  and  so  caused  the  balance  to  in- 
cline in  favour  of  the  new  doctrines  throughout  the  Confedera- 
tion. Farel's  coming  resembled  the  arrival  of  those  fresh 
troops,  who,  just  when  the  battle  bangs  doubtfully,  appear 
upon  the  field,  throw  themselves  into  the  thick  of  the  fight  and 
decide  the  victory.  He  led  the  way  in  Switzerland  for  ano- 
ther Frenchman,  whose  austere  faith  and  commanding  genius 
were  ordained  to  terminate  the  Reformation,  and  render  the 
work  complete.  In  the  persons  of  these  distinguished  men 
France  took  her  part  in  that  vast  commotion  which  agitated 
Christendom.  It  is  therefore  time  that  we  should  turn  our 
attention  to  France. 


BOOK    Xll. 

THE    FRENCH. 1500 1526. 

One  essential  character  of  Christianity,  is  its  Universality 
Very  different  in  this  respect  are  the  religions  of  particular 
countries  that  men  have  invented.  Adapting  themselves  to 
this  or  that  nation,  and  the  point  of  progress  which  it  has 
reached,  they  hold  it  fixed  and  motionless  at  that  point — or  if 
from  any  extraordinary  cause  the  people  are  carried  forward, 
their  religion  is  left  behind,  and  so  becomes  useless  to 
them. 

There  has  been  a  religion  of  Egypt — of  Greece — of  Rome, 
and  even  of  Judea.  Christianity  is  the  only  religion  .of  Man- 
kind. 

It  has  for  its  origin  in  man — Sin ;  and  this  is  a  character 
that  appertains  not  merely  to  one  race,  but  which  is  the  inheri- 
tance of  all  mankind.  Hence,  as  meeting  the  highest  neces- 
sities of  our  common  nature,  the  Gospel  is  received  as  from 
God,  at  once  by  the  most  barbarous  nations,  and  the  most  civ- 
ilized communities  Without  deifying  national  pcculiaritie.% 
like  the  religions  of  antiquity,  it  nevertheless  does  not  destroy 
them,  as  modern  cosmopolism  aims  to  do.  It  does  better,  for 
it  sanctifies,  ennobles,  and  raises  them  to  a  holy  oneness,  by  the 
new  and  living  principle  it  communicates  to  them. 

The  introduction  of  the  Christian  religion  into  the  world 
has  produced  an  incalculable  change  in  history.  There  had 
previously  been  only  a  history  of  nations, — there  is  now  a 
history  of  mankind ;  and  the  idea  of  an  education  of  human 
nature  as  a  whole, — an  education,  the  work  of  Jesus  Christ 

29* 


342  THE    REFORMATION    IN    FRANCE. 

himself, — is  become  like  a  compass  for  the  historian,  the  key 
of  history,  and  the  hope  of  nations. 

But  the  effects  of  the  Christian  religion  are  seen  not  merely 
among  all  nations,  but  in  all  the  successive  periods  of  their 
progress. 

When  it  first  appeared,  the  world  resembled  a  torch  about 
to  expire  in  darkness,  and  Christianity  called  forth  anew  a 
heavenly  flame. 

In  a  later  age,  the  barbarian  nations  had  rushed  upon  the 
Roman  territories,  carrying  havoc  and  confusion  wherever 
they  came;  and  Christianity,  holding  up  the  cross  against  the 
desolating  torrent,  had  subdued,  by  its  influence,  the  half-sav- 
age children  of  the  north,  and  moulded  society  anew. 

Yet  an  element  of  corruption  lay  hidden  in  the  religion 
carried  by  devoted  missionaries  among  these  rude  populations. 
Their  faith  had  come  to  them  almost  as  much  from  Rome  as 
from  the  Bible.  Ere  long  that  element  expanded;  man 
every  where  usurped  the  place  of  God, — the  distinguishing 
character  of  the  church  of  Rome;  and  a  revival  of  religion 
became  necessary.  This  Christianity  gave  to  man  in  the  age 
of  which  we  are  treating. 

The  progress  of  the  Reformation  in  the  countries  we  have 
hitherto  surveyed  has  shown  us  the  new  teaching  rejecting 
the  excesses  of  the  Anabaptists,  and  the  newly  arisen  prophets: 
but  it  is  the  shallows  of  Incredulity  which  it  especially  en- 
countered in  the  country  to  which  we  are  now  to  turn  our 
attention.  Nowhere  had  bolder  protests  been  heard  against 
the  superstitions  and  abuses  of  the  Church.  Nowhere  had 
there  been  a  more  striking  exhibition  of  that  love  of  learning, 
apart  from,  or  independent  of,  Christianity,  which  often  leads 
to  irreligion,  France  bore  within  it  at  once  two  reformations, 
— the  one  of  man,  the  other  of  God,  "  Two  nations  were 
in  her  womb,  and  two  manner  of  people  were  to  be  separated 
from  her  bowels."* 

In  France  not  only  had  the  Reformation  to  combat  incre- 
dulity as  well  as  superstition,  it  found  a  third  antagonist  which 
*  Gen,  XXV.  23. 


THE    PIEDMONTESE.  348 

it  had  not  encountered,  at  least  in  so  much  strength,  among 
the  Germanic  population,  aud  this  was  immorality.  Profli- 
gacy in  the  church  was  great.  Debauchery  sat  upon  the 
throne  of  Francis  the  First  and  Catherine  de  Medicis;  and 
the  rigid  virtues  of  the  Reformers  provoked  the  anger  of  the 
Sardanapaluses.*  Wherever  it  came,  doubtless, — but  especi- 
ally in  France — the  Reformation  was  necessarily  not  only 
dogmatic  and  ecclesiastical,  but,  moreover,  moral. 

These  violent  opposing  influences,  which  the  Reformation 
encountered  at  one  and  the  same  moment  among  the  French 
people,  gave  to  it  a  character  altogether  peculiar.  Nowhere 
did  it  so  often  have  its  dwelling  in  dungeons,  or  bear  so  mark- 
ed a  resemblance  to  the  Christianity  of  the  first  ages  in  faith 
and  love,  and  in  the  number  of  its  martyrs.  If  in  those  coun- 
tries of  which  we  have  heretofore  spoken  the  Reformation 
was  more  illustrated  by  its  triumphs,  in  those  we  are  about  to 
speak  of  it  was  more  glorious  in  its  reverses!  If  elsewhere 
it  might  point  to  more  thrones  and  council  chambers,  here  it 
could  appeal  to  more  scaffolds  and  hill-side  meetings.  Who- 
ever knows  in  what  consists  the  real  glory  of  Christianity 
upon  earth,  and  the  features  that  assimilate  it  to  its  Author, 
will  study  with  a  deep  feeling  of  veneration  and  aflfection 
the  history,  often  marked  with  blood,  which  we  are  now  to 
recount. 

Of  those  who  have  afterwards  shone  on  the  stage  of  life, 
the  greater  number  have  been  born  and  have  grown  up  in  the 
provinces.  Paris  is  like  a  tree  which  spreads  out  to  view  its 
flowers  and  its  fruit,  but  of  which  the  roots  draw  from  a  dis- 
tance and  from  hidden  depths  of  the  soil  the  nutritive  juices 
which  they  transform.     The  Reformation  followed  this  law. 

The  Alps,  which  had  witnessed  the  rise  of  fearless  Chris- 
tian men  in  every  canton,  and  almost  in  every  valley  of  Switz- 
erland, were  destined  in  France  also  to  shelter,  with  their 
lengthened  shadows,  the  infoncy  of  some  of  the  earliest  Re- 
formers. For  ages  they  had  preserved  their  treasure  more 
or  less  pure  in  their  lofty  valleys,  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
*  Sardanapalus  (Henry  II.)  inter  scorta.     (Calvini  Epp.  M.S.) 


344  PERSECUTION    OF    THE    VAUDOIS. 

Piedmontese  districts  of  Luzerne,  Angrogne,  and  Peyrouse. 
The  truth,  which  Rome  had  not  been  able  to  wrest  from  theniy 
had  spread  from  the  heights  to  the  hollows  and  base  of  the 
mountains  in  Provence  and  in  Dauphiny. 

The  year  after  the  accession  of  Charles  VIII.,  the  son  of 
Louis  XI.  and  a  youth  of  feeble  health  and  timid  character, 
— Innocent  VIII.  had  been  invested  with  the  Pontiff's  tiara, 
(1484.)  He  had  seven  or  eight  sons  by  different  vvomen  : — 
hence,  according  to  an  epigram  of  that  age,  the  Romans  unani- 
mously gave  him  the  name  of  Father* 

There  was,  at  this  time,  on  the  southern  declivities  of  the 
Alps  of  Dauphiny  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Durance,  an 
after-growth  of  the  ancient  Vaudois  opinions.  "  The  roots," 
says  an  old  chronicler,  "were  continually  putting  forth  fresh 
shoots  in  all  directions."!  Bold  men  were  heard  to  desig- 
nate the  Church  of  Rome  ihe  '  church  of  evil  spirits,'  and  to 
maintain  that  it  was  quite  as  profitable  to  pray  in  a  stable  as 
in  a  church. 

The  clergy,  the  bishops,  and  the  Roman  legates  were  loud 
in  their  outcries,  and  on  the  5th  of  May,  1487,  Innocent  VIIL 
the  'Father'  of  the  Romans,  issued  a  bull  against  these  hum- 
ble Christians.  "  To  arms,"  said  the  Pontiff,  "  to  arms  !  and 
trample  those  heretics  under  your  feet  as  you  would  crush  the 
venomous  serpent.":|: 

At  the  approach  of  the  Legate,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
eighteen  thousand  men,  and  a  host  of  voluntaries,  drawn  to- 
gether by  the  hope  of  sharing  in  the  plunder  of  the  Vaudois, 
the  latter  abandoned  their  dwellings  and  retired  to  the  moun- 
tains, caverns,  and  clefts  of  the  rocks,  as  the  birds  flee  for 
shelter  when  a  storm  is  rising.     Not  a  valley,  a  thicket,  or 

*  Octo  nocens  pueros  genuit  totidemque  puellas. 
Hujic  merito  poterit  dicere  Roma  Patrem. 
t  In  Ebredunensi  archiepiscopatu   veteres  Waldensium  haereticorura 
fibra  repullularunt.     (Raynald.     Annales  Ecclesiast.  ad.  ann.  1487.) 

X  Armis  insurgant,  eosque  veluti  aspides  venenosos  .  .  .  conculcent. 
(Bull  of  Innocent  VIII.  preserved  at  Cambridge.  Leger  Histoire  des 
Eglises  Vaudoises,  ii.  p.  8.) 


BIRTHPLACE    OF    FAREL.  345 

a  rock  escaped  their  persecutors'  search.  Throughout  the 
adjacent  Alps,  and  especially  on  the  side  of  Italy,  these  de- 
fenceless disciples  of  Christ  were  tracked  like  hunted  deer. 
At  last  the  Pope's  satellites  were  worn  out  with  the  pursuit; 
their  strength  was  exhausted,  their  feet  could  no  longer  scale 
the  inaccessible  retreats  of  the  "  heretics,"  and  their  arms  re- 
fused their  office. 

In  these  Alpine  solitudes,  then  disturbed  by  Roman  fanati- 
cism, three  leagues  from  the  ancient  town  of  Gap,*  in  the  di- 
rection of  Grenoble,  not  far  from  the  flowery  turf  that  clothes 
the  table  land  of  Bayard's  mountain,  at  the  foot  of  the  Mont 
de  r  Aiguille,  and  near  to  the  Col  de  Glaize,  toward  the  source 
of  the  Buzon,  stood,  and  still  stands,  a  group  of  houses,  half 
hidden  by  surrounding  trees,  and  known  by  the  name  of 
Farel,  or,  in  patois,  Fareau.]  On  an  extended  plain  above 
the  neighbouring  cottages,  stood  a  house  of  the  class  to  which, 
in  France,  the  appellation  of  '■'■  geritilhommiere^^  is  attached, — 
a  country  gentleman's  habitation. ;{:  It  was  surrounded  by  an 
orchard,  which  formed  an  avenue  to  the  village.  Here,  in 
those  troublous  times,  lived  a  family  bearing  the  name  of  Fa- 
rel, of  long-established  reputation  for  piety,  and,  as  it  would 
seem,  of  noble  descent.^  In  the  year  1489,  at  a  time  when 
Dauphiny  was  groaning  under  a  weight  of  papal  oppression, 
exceeding  what  it  had  ever  before  endured,  a  son  was  born  in 
this  modest  mansion,  who  received  the  name  of  William. 
Three  brothers,  Daniel,  Walter,  and  Claude,  and  a   sister, 

*  Principal  town  of  the  High  Alps. 

t  Fevue  du  Dauphin6,  July  1837,  p.  35. 

:  Grenoble  to  Gap,  distant  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  journey  from  the 
last  posthouse,  and  a  stone's  throw  to  the  right  from  the  high  road  is  the 
village  of  the  Farels.  The  site  of  the  house  which  belonged  to  the  fa- 
ther of  the  Farel  is  still  pointed  out.  Though  it  is  now  occupied  by  a 
cottage  only,  its  dimensions  are  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  original  struc- 
ture must  have  been  a  dwelling  of  a  superior  order.  The  preseut  inhab- 
itant of  the  cottage  bears  the  name  of  Farel.  For  these  particulars  I  am 
indebted  to  M.  Blanc,  the  pastor  of  Mens. 

§  Gulielmum  Farellum  Delphinatem,  nobili  familia  ortum.  (Bezo 
loones.)  Calvin,  writing  to  Cardinal  Sadolet,  dwells  upon  the  disinter^ 
estedness  of  Farel, — a  man  of  siich  noble  Hrth,    (Opuscula,  p.  148.) 


346  LA    SAINTE    CROIX. 

grew  up  with  William,  and  shared  his  sports  on  the  banks  of 
the  Buzon,  and  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Bayard. 

His  infancy  and  boyhood  were  passed  on  the  same  spot. 
His  parents  were  among  the  most  submissive  thralls  of  Pope- 
ry. '•  My  father  and  mother  believed  every  thing,"*  he  tells 
us  himself;  and  accordingly  they  brought  up  their  children  in 
the  strictest  observances  of  Romish  devotion. 

God  had  endowed  William  Farel  with  many  exalted  quali- 
ties, fitted  to  give  him  an  ascendancy  over  his  fellow-men. 
Gifted  at  once  with  a  penetrating  judgment,  and  a  lively  ima- 
gination, sincere  and  upright  in  his  deportment,  characterised 
by  a  loftiness  of  soul  which  never,  under  any  temptation,  al- 
lowed him  to  dissemble  the  convictions  of  his  heart ; — he  was 
still  more  remarkable  for  the  earnestness,  the  ardour,  the  un- 
flinching courage  which  bore  him  up  and  carried  him  forward 
in  spite  of  every  hindrance..  But,  at  the  same  time,  he  had 
the  faults  allied  to  these  noble  qualities,  and  his  parents  found 
frequent  occasion  to  repress  the  violence  of  his  disposition. 

William  threw  himself  with  his  whole  soul  into  the  same 
superstitious  course  which  his  credulous  family  had  followed 
before  him.  "  I  am  horror  struck,"  said  he,  at  a  later  period, 
"  when  I  think  on  the  hours,  the  prayers,  the  divine  honours, 
which  I  have  offered  myself,  and  caused  others  to  offer,  to  the 
cross,  and  such  like  vanities."! 

Four  leagues  distant  from  Gap,  to  the  south,  near  Tallard, 
on  a  hill  which  overlooks  the  impetuous  waters  of  the  Du- 
rance, was  a  place  in  high  repute  at  that  time,  called  La  Sainte 
Croix.  William  was  but  seven  or  eight  years  old  when  his 
parents  thought  fit  to  take  him  thither  on  a  pilgrimage.:]: 
"The  cross  you  will  see  there,"  said  they,  "is  made  of  the 
wood  of  the  very  cross  on  which  Jesus  Christ  was  crucified." 

The  family  set  forth  on  their  journey,  and,  on  reaching  the 

*  Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel,  p.  237. 

t  Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel,  p.  232. 

%  J'estoye  fort  petit  et  a  peine  je  savoye  lire.  (Ibid.  p.  237.)  Le 
premier  pelerinage  auquel  j'ai  este  a  este  a  la  saincte  croix.  (Ibid. 
p.  233.) 


THE  priest's  wizard.  347 

object  of  their  veneration,  cast  themselves  prostrate  before  it. 
After  they  had  gazed  awhile  on  the  holy  wood  of  the  cross, 
and  the  copper  appertaining  to  it, — the  latter,  as  the  priest  told 
them,  "made  of  the  basin  in  which  our  Saviour  washed  the 
feet  of  his  disciples," — the  pilgrims  cast  their  eyes  on  a  little 
crucifix  which  was  attached  to  the  cross.  "  When  the  devils 
send  us  hail  and  thunder,"  resumed  the  priest,  "  this  crucifix 
moves  so  violently,  that  one  would  think  it  wanted  to  get  loose 
from  the  cross  to  put  the  devils  to  flight,  and  all  the  wdiile  it 
keeps  throwing  out  sparks  of  fire  against  the  storm  ;  were  it 
not  for  this,  the  whole  country  would  be  swept  bare."* 

These  pious  pilgrims  were  greatly  affected  at  the  recital  of 
such  prodigies.  "Nobody,"  continued  the  priest,  "sees  or 
knows  any  thing  of  these  things,  except  myself  and  this  man 
here  .  .  .  ."  The  pilgrims  turned  their  heads,  and  saw  a 
strange  looking  man  standing  beside  them.  "It  would  have 
frightened  you  to  look  at  him,"  says  Farel :  "the  pupils  of 
both  his  eyes  seemed  to  be  covered  with  white  specks;  whether 
they  were  so  in  leality,  or  that  Satan  gave  them  that  appear- 
ance"! This  uncouth  looking  man,  whom  the  unbelieving 
called  the  "priest's  wizard,"  on  being  appealed  to  by  the  lat- 
ter, bore  testimony  at  once  to  the  truth  of  the  miracle.^ 

A  new  episode  was  now  accidentally  introduced  to  com- 
plete the  picture,  and  mingle  suggestions  of  guilty  excess  with 
the  dreams  of  superstition  "Up  comes  a  young  woman  on 
some  errand  veiy  different  from  devotion  to  the  cross,  carry- 
ing a  little  child  wrapped  in  a  cloak.  And,  behold,  the 
priest,  goes  to  meet  her,  and  takes  hold  of  her  and  the  child, 
and  carries  them  straight  into  the  chapel :  never,  believe  me, 
did  couple  in  a  dance  amble  off  more  lovingly  than  did  these 
two.  But  so  blinded  were  we  that  we  took  no  heed  of  their 
gestures  or  their  glances,  and  e.\ n  had  their  behaviour  been 
still  more  unseemly,  we  should  have  deemed  it  altogether 
right  and  reverent: — of  a  truth,  both  the  damsel  and  the  priest 

*  Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel,  p.  235 — 239. 
t  Ibid.  p.  237.  X  Ibid.  p.  238. 


MS  farel's  superstitious  faith. 

understood  the  miracle  thoroughly,  and  how  to  turn  a  pilgrim- 
visit  to  fair  account."* 

Here  we  are  presented  with  a  faithful  picture  of  the  religion. 
and  manners  of  France  at  the  commencement  of  the  Refor- 
mation. Morals  and  belief  had  alike  been  vitiated,  and  each 
stood  in  need  of  a  thorough  renovation.  In  proportion  as  a 
higher  value  was  attached  to  outward  rites,  the  sanctification 
of  the  heart  had  become  less  and  less  an  object  of  concern  ; — 
dead  ordinances  had  every  where  usurped  the  place  of  a 
christian  life ;  and,  by  a  revolting  yet  natural  alliance,  the 
most  scandalous  debauchery  had  been  combined  with  the 
most  superstitious  devotion.  Instances  are  on  record  of  theft 
committed  at  the  altar, — seduction  practised  in  the  confessional, 
— poison  mingled  with  the  eucharist, — adultery  perpetrated  at 
the  foot  of  a  cross!  Superstition,  while  ruining  Christian 
doctrine,  had  ruined  morality  also. 

There  were,  however,  numerous  exceptions  to  this  pitiable 
state  of  things  in  the  Christianity  of  the  middle  ages.  Even 
a  superstitious  faith  may  be  a  sincere  one.  William  Farel  is 
an  example  of  this.  The  same  zeal  which  afterwards  urged 
him  to  travel  incessantly  from  place  to  place,  that  he  might 
spread  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  then  incited  him  to 
visit  every  spot  where  the  church  exhibited  a  miracle,  or  ex- 
acted a  tribute  of  adoration.  Dauphiny  could  boast  of  her 
seven  wonders,  which  had  long  been  sanctified  in  the  imagi- 
nation of  the  people.!  But  the  beauties  of  nature,  by  which 
he  was  surrounded,  had  also  their  influence  in  raising  his 
thoughts  to  the  Creator. 

The  magnificent  chain  of  the  Alps, — the  pinnacles  covered 
with  eternal  snow, — the  enormous  rocks,  sometimes  rearing 
their  pointed  summits  to  the  sky, — sometimes  stretching  their 
naked  ridges  on-and-on  above  the  level  clouds,  and  presenting 
the  appearance  of  an  island  suspended  in  the  air, — all  these 

*  Du  vray  usage  de  la  croix,  par  Guillaume  Farel,  p.  235.  Some 
phrases  of  this  narrative  have  been  a  Uttle  softened. 

t  The  boiling  spring,  the  cisterns  of  Sassenage,  the  manner  of  Brian- 
con,  -Sec. 


THE  CHEVALIER  BAYARD.  349 

wonders  of  creation,  which,  even  then,  were  dilating  the  soul 
of  Ulric  Zwingle,  in  the  Tockenburg,  spoke  with  equal  force 
to  the  heart  of  William  Farel,  among  the  mountains  of 
Dauphiny.  He  thirsted  for  life, — for  knowledge — for  light; 
he  aspired  to  be  something  great :  he  asked  permission  to  study. 

It  was  an  unwelcome  surprise  to  his  father,  who  thought 
that  a  young  noble  should  know  nothing  beyond  his  rosary 
and  his  sword.  The  universal  theme  of  conversation  at  that 
time  was  the  prowess  of  a  young  countryman  of  William's, 
a  native  of  Dauphiny,  like  himself,  named  Du  Terrail,  but 
better  known  by  the  name  of  Bayard,  who  had  recently  per- 
formed astonishing  feats  of  valour  in  the  battle  of  Tar,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Alps.  "Such  sons  as  he,"  it  was  currently 
remarked,  "  are  like  arrows  in  the  hand  of  a  mighty  man. 
Blessed  is  the  man  who  has  his  quiver  full  of  them!"  Ac- 
cordingly, Farel's  father  resisted  his  wish  to  become  a  scholar. 
But  the  youth's  resolution  was  not  to  be  shaken.  God  de- 
signed him  for  nobler  conquests  than  any  that  are  to  be 
achieved  by  such  as  Bayard.  He  urged  his  request  with  re- 
peated importunity,  and  the  old  gentleman  at  length  gave  way.* 

Farel  immediately  applied  himself  to  study  with  surprising 
ardour.  The  masters  whom  he  found  in  Dauphiny  were  of 
little  service  to  him ;  and  he  had  to  contend  with  all  the  dis- 
advantages of  imperfect  methods  of  tuition  and  incapable 
teachers. t  But  difficulties  stimulated  instead  of  discouraging 
him;  and  he  soon  surmounted  these  impediments.  His 
brothers  followed  his  example.  Daniel  subsequently  entered 
on  the  career  of  politics,  and  was  employed  on  some  import- 
ant negociations  concerning  religion. |  Walter  was  admitted 
into  the  confidence  of  the  Count  of  Furstemberg. 

Farel,  ever  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  having 
learned   all   that  was  to  be  learned  in  his  native  province, 

*  Cum  a  parentibus  vix  impetrassem  ad  litteras  concessum.  (Farel 
Natali  Galeoto,  1527.  MS.     Letters  of  the  conclave  of  Neuchatel.) 

t  A  praeceptoribus  praecipue  in  Latina  lingua  ineptissimis  institutu*. 
(Farelli  Epist.) 

i  Life  of  Farel,  MS.  at  Geneva.  ^ 

VOL.  III.  30 


350  Loris  XII. 

turned  his  eyes  elsewhere.  The  fame  of  the  university  of 
Paris  had  Jong  resounded  through  the  Christiain  world.  He 
was  anxious  to  see  "  this  mother  of  all  the  sciences,  this  true 
luminary  of  the  Church,  which  never  knew  eclipses, — this 
pure  and  polished  mirror  of  the  faith,  dimmed  hy  no  cloud, 
sullied  by  no  foul  touch.*  He  obtained  permission  from  his 
parents,  and  set  out  for  the  capital  of  France. 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1510,  or  shortly  after  the  close  of 
that  year,  the  young  Dauphinese  arrived  in  Paris.  His  native 
province  had  sent  him  forth  a  devoted  adherent  of  the  Papacy, 
— the  capital  was  to  convert  him  into  something  far  different. 
In  France  the  Reformation  was  not  destined,  as  in  Germany, 
to  take  its  rise  in  a  petty  city.  By  whatever  movement  the 
population  of  the  former  country  may  at  any  time  be  agitated, 
the  impulse  is  always  to  be  traced  to  the  metropolis.  A  con- 
currence of  providential  circumstances  had  made  Paris,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  focus  from  which 
a  spark  of  vivifying  fire  might  easily  be  emitted.  The 
stranger  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Gap,  who  had  just  found 
his  way  to  the  great  city,  an  obscure  and  ill-instructed  youth, 
was  to  receive  that  spark  into  his  bosom,  and  to  share  it  with 
many  around  him. 

Lous  XII.,  the  fiither  of  his  people,  had  just  convened  an 
assembly  of  the  representatives  of  the  French  clergy  at  Tours. 
This  prince  seems  to  have  anticipated  the  times  of  the  Refor- 
mation, so  that  if  that  great  revolution  had  taken  place  during 
his  leign,  all  France,  probably,  would  have  become  Protest- 
ant. The  assembly  at  Tours  had  declared  that  the  King  had 
a  right  to  make  war  against  the  Pope,  and  to  carry  into  effect 
tht^  d^xrees  of  the  Council  of  Basle.  These  decisions  were 
the  subject  of  general  conversation  in  the  colleges,  as  well  as 
in  the  city,  and  at  the  court,  and  they  could  not  fail  to  make 
a  deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  young  Farel. 

Two  children  of  royal  blood  were  then  growing  up  in  the 

*  Universitatom  Parisiensfm  matrem  omnium  scientiarum  .... 
speculum  fidei  tersuni  et  politum  .  ,  .  (Prima  Apellat  Universit.  an. 
1396,  Bulceus,  iv.  p.  806.) 


THE    TWO    VALOIS.  351 

court  of  Louis.  The  one  was  a  young  prince  of  tall  stature, 
and  a  striking  cast  of  features,  who  evinced  liule  nnoderation. 
of  character,  and  yielded  himself  unreflectingly  to  the  mastery 
of  his  passions,  so  that  the  king  was  often  heard  to  say,  "That 
great  boy  will  spoil  all."*  This  was  Francis  of  Angouleme, 
Duke  of  Valois,  the  king's  cousin.  Boisy,  his  governor,  had 
taught  him,  however,  to  show  great  respect  to  letters. 

The  companion  of  Francis  was  his  sister  Margaret,  who 
was  two  years  older  than  himself  "A  princess,"  says  Bran- 
t6me,  "  of  vigorous  understanding,  and  great  talents,  both 
natural  and  acquired."!  Accordingly,  Louis  had  spared  no 
pains  in  her  education,  and  the  most  learned  men  in  the  kingdom, 
were  prepared  to  acknowledge  Margaret  as  their  patroness. 

Already,  indeed,  a  group  of  illustrious  men  was  collected 
round  the  two  Valois.  William  Bude,  who,  in  his  youth,  had 
given  himself  up  to  self-indulgence  of  every  kind,  and  espe- 
cially to  the  enjoyment  of  the  chase, — living  among  his 
hawks,  and  horses,  and  hounds;  and  who,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  had  suddenly  altered  his  course  of  life,  sold  off 
his  equipage,  and  applied  himself  to  study  with  all  the  eager- 
ness he  had  formerly  displayed  when  cheering  on  his  pack  to 
follow  the  scent  through  field  and  forest,;}; — Cop,  the  physician, 
— Francis  Vatable,  whose  proficiency  in  Hebrew  learning 
was  admired  by  the  Jewish  doctors  themselves, — James 
Tusan,  the  celebrated  Hellenist ; — these  and  other  men  of 
letters  besides, — encouraged  by  Stephen  Poncher,  the  bishop 
of  Paris,  Louis  Ruze,  the  "  Lieutenant-Civil,"  and  Francis  de 
Luynes,  and  already  protected  by  the  two  young  Valois, — 
maintained  their  ground  against  the  violent  attacks  of  the 
Sorbonne,  who  regarded  the  study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  as 
the  most  fearful  heresy.  At  Paris,  as  in  Germany  and 
Switzerland,  the  restoration  of  religious  truth  was  preceded  by 
the  revival  of  letters.  But  in  France  the  hands  that  prepared 
the  materials  were  not  appointed  to  construct  the  edifice. 

*  Mezeray,  vol.  iv.  p.  127. 

t  Brant.  Dames  Illustres,  p.  331. 

I  Wm  wife  and  mm  came  to  Geneva  in  1540,  after  his  death. 


852    -  LEFEVRE. 

Among  all  the  doctors  who  then  adorned  the  French  me- 
tropolis, one  of  the  most  remarkable  was  a  man  of-diminutive 
stature,  of  mean  appearance,  and  humble  birth;*  whose  wit, 
erudition,  and  eloquence  had  an  indescribable  charm  for  all 
who  approached  him.  The  name  of  this  doctor  was  Lefevre; 
he  was  born  in  1455  at  Etables,  a  little  town  in  Picardy.  He 
had  received  only  an  indifferent  education, — a  barbarous  one, 
Theodore  Beza  calls  it ;  but  his  genius  had  supplied  the  want 
of  masters;  and  his  piety,  his  learning,  and  the  nobility  of  his 
soul  shone  with  a  lustre  so  much  the  brighter.  He  had  been 
a  great  traveller, — it  would  even  appear  that  his  desire  to 
acquire  knowledge  had  led  him  into  Asia  and  Africa. t  So 
early  as  the  year  1493,  Lefevre,  being  then  a  doctor  of  theo- 
logy, occupied  the  station  of  a  professor  in  the  University  of 
Paris,  He  immediately  assumed  a  distinguished  place  among 
his  colleagues,  and  in  the  estimation  of  Erasmus  ranked  above 
them  all.f 

Lefevre  soon  discovered  that  he  had  a  peculiar  task  to 
fulfil.  Though  attached  to  the  practices  of  the  Romish 
church,  he  conceived  a  desire  to  reform  the  barbarous  system 
which  then  prevailed  in  the  University  ;§  he  accordingly 
began  to  teach  the  various  branches  of  philosophy  with  a 
precision  hitherto  unknown.  He  laboured  to  revive  the  study 
of  languages  and  classical  antiquities.  He  went  further  than 
this ;  he  perceived  that  when  a  mental  regeneration  is  aimed 
at,  philosophy  and  literature  are  insufficient  instruments. 
Abandoning,  therefore,  the  scholastic  theology,  which  for  so 
many  ages  had  held  an  undisputed  sway  in  the  seats  of  learn- 
ing, he  applied  himself  to  the  Bible,  and  again  introduced  the 
study  of  the  l^''iy  Scriptures  and  evangelical  science.     They 

♦  Homunculi  unius  neque  genere  insignis.     (Bezae  Icones.) 

t  In  the  2nd  chapter  of  his  Commentary  on  the  Secoud  Epistle  to  the 
Thessalonians  is  a  curious  story  regarding  Mecca  and  the  temple  there, 
which  he  relates  in  the  style  of  a  traveller. 

t  Fabro,  viro  quo  vix  in  multis  millibus  reperias  vel  integriorem  vel 
humaniorem,  says  Erasmus.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  174.) 

§   Barbariem   nobilissimae   academise incumbentem  detrudi, 

TBezse  Icones.) 


HIS    DEVOTION.  353 

were  no  barren  researches  to  which  he  addicted  himself;  he 
went  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  Bible.  His  eloquence,  his 
candour,  his  affability,  captivated  every  heart.  Earnest  and 
fervent  in  the  pulpit, — in  his  private  intercourse  w^ith  his 
pupils  he  condescended  to  the  most  engaging"  familiarity. 
"He  loves  me  exceedingly,"  was  the  language  of  Glareanus, 
one  of  the  number,  when  writing  to  his  friend  Zwingle;  "he 
is  all  frankness  and  kindness, — he  sings,  he  plays,  he  disputes, 
and  then  laughs  with  me."*  Accordingly,  a  great  number 
of  disciples  from  every  country  were  gathered  around  his 
chair. 

This  man,  learned  as  he  was,  submitted  himself  all  the 
while,  with  childlike  simplicity,  to  the  ordinances  of  the 
church.  He  passed  as  much  time  in  the  churches  as  in  his 
closet, — so  that  a  sympathetic  union  seemed  established  be- 
forehand between  the  old  doctor  of  Picardy  and  the  young 
student  of  Dauphiny.  When  two  natures,  so  congenial  as 
these,  are  brought  within  the  same  sphere,  though  it  be  the 
wide  and  agitated  circle  of  a  capital  city,  their  reciprocal  at- 
traction must  at  last  place  them  in  contact  with  each  other. 
In  his  pious  pilgrimages,  young  Farel  soon  observed  an  old 
man,  by  whose  devotion  he  was  greatly  interested.  He  re- 
marked how  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  the  images,  how  long 
he  remained  in  that  posture,  how  fervently  he  seemed  to  pray, 
and  how  devoutly  he  repeated  his  hours.  "  Never,"  says 
Farel,  "  had  1  heard  a  chanter  chant  the  mass  more  rever- 
ently."! This  was  Lefevre.  Farel  immediately  felt  a  strong 
desire  to  become  acquainted  with  him  ; — and  great,  indeed, 
was  his  joy  when  the  venerable  man  met  his  approaches  with 
kindness.  He  had  now  found  what  he  had  come  to  the  capi- 
tal to  seek.  Henceforth  his  chief  delight  was  to  converse  with 
the  doctor  of  Eta  pies,  to  listen  to  his  instructions,  to  prac- 
tise his  admirable  precepts,  and  to  kneel  with  him  in  pious 
adoration  at  the  same  shrine.     Often  were  the  aged  Lefevre 

*  Supra  modum  me  amat  totus  integer  et  candidus,  mecum  cantillat 
ludit,  disputat,  ridet  mecum.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  26.) 
t  Ep.  de  Farel  a  tous  seigneurs,  peuples  et  pasteurs. 


354 

and  his  youthful  d'sciple  seen  assisting  each  other  to  adorn  the 
image  of  the  Virgin  with  flowers, — while  far  removed  from 
Paris,  far  removed  from  the  throng  of  the  collegiate  hall,  they 
murmured  in  concert  their  earnest  prayers  to  the  blessed  Mary.* 

The  attachment  of  Farel  to  Lefevre  was  generally  noticed, 
and  the  respect  inspired  by  the  old  doctor  was  reflected  on  his 
pupil.  This  illustrious  connection  was  the  means  of  with- 
drawing the  young  Dauphinese  from  his  obscurity.  He  soon 
acquired  a  reputation  for  his  zeal ;  and  many  pious  persona 
of  the  wealthier  order  entrusted  him  with  sums  of  money,  to 
be  applied  to  the  support  of  poor  students.f 

Some  time  elapsed  before  Lefevre  and  his  disciple  attained 
to  a  clear  perception  of  the  truth.  It  was  neither  the  hope  of 
a  rich  benefice,  nor  any  propensity  to  an  irregular  life,  that 
bound  Farel  so  firml}'-  to  the  cause  of  Popery:  a  spirit  like 
his  was  not  to  be  influenced  by  motives  so  sordid.  The  Pope, 
in  his  eyes,  was  the  visible  chief  of  the  church, — a  sort  of 
divinity,  at  whose  bidding,  souls  were  rescued  from  perdition. 
If  any  one,  in  his  hearing,  presumed  to  say  a  word  against  the 
venerated  Pontiff]  he  gnashed  his  teeth  like  a  raging  wolf, 
and,  if  he  could,  would  have  called  down  thunder  from  heaven 
to  overwhelm  the  guilty  wretch  in  ruin  and  confusion.  "  I 
believe,"  he  said,  "  in  the  cross,  in  pilgrimages,  in  images, 
in  vows,  in  relics.  What  the  priest  holds  in  his  hands,  shuts 
up  in  the  box,  eats  himself,  and  gives  to  be  eaten  by  others, — 
that  is  my  only  true  God, — and  to  me  there  is  no  God  beside, 
in  heaven  or  on  earth  ?"|  "  Satan,"  he  says  afterwards,  "  had 
lodged  the  Pope,  and  Popery,  and  all  that  is  of  himself,  so 
deeply  in  my  heart,  that,  even  in  the  Pope's  own  heart,  they 
could  have  sunk  no  deeper." 

And  thus  it  was,  that  while  Farel  seemed  to  be  seeking 
God,  his  piety  decayed,  and  superstition  gathered  strength  in 
his  soul.     He  has  himself,  in  forcible  language,  described  his 

♦  Floribus  jubebat  Marianum  idolum,   dumuna  soli  murmuraremua 
preces  Marianas  ad  idolum,  ornari.     (Farellus  Pellicano,  an  1556.) 
t  Manuscript  at  Geneva, 
X  Ep.  de  Farel, — a  tous  seigneurs,  peuples  et  psateurs. 


^  FAREL    AND    THE    BIBLE.  355 

condition  at  that  time.*  "  Oh !"  says  he,  "  how  I  shudder  at 
myself  and  my  sins,  when  I  think  on  it  all ;  and  how  great 
and  wonderful  a  work  of  God  it  is,  that  man  should  ever  be 
delivered  from  such  an  abyss  !" 

The  deliverance  in  his  own  case  was  wrought  by  little  and 
little.  In  the  course  of  his  reading,  his  attention  had  at  first 
been  engaged  by  profane  authors  ;  but,  finding  no  food  for  his 
piety  in  these,  he  had  set  himself  to  study  the  lives  of  the 
saints  :  infatuation  had  led  him  to  these  legends,  and  he  quitted 
them  more  miserably  infatuated  still. f  He  then  addressed 
himself  to  several  of  the  celebrated  doctors  of  the  age ;  but 
these,  instead  of  imparting  tranquillity  to  his  mind,  only  ag- 
gravated his  wretchedness.  He  next  resolved  to  study  the 
ancient  philosophers,  and  attempted  to  learn  Christianity  from 
Aristotle ;  but  again  his  hopes  were  frustrated.  Books,  ima- 
ges, relics,  Aristotle,  the  Virgin,  and  the  saints, — all  were 
unavailing.  His  eager  spirit  wandered  from  one  broken  cis- 
tern of  human  wisdom  to  another,  and  turned  away  from  each 
in  succession,  unrelieved  of  the  thirst  that  consumed  it. 

At  last,  remembering  that  the  Pope  allowed  the  writings 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament  to  be  called  the  "  Holy  Bible^^ 
Farel  betook  himself  to  the  perusal  of  these,  as  Luther,  in  the 
cloister  of  Erfurth  had  done  before  him ;  and  then,  to  his  dis- 
may,j:  he  found  that  the  existing  state  of  things  was  such  as 
could  in  no  way  be  reconciled  with  the  rule  of  Scripture.  He 
was  now,  we  might  think,  on  the  very  point  of  coming  at  the 
truth,  when,  all  at  once,  the  darkness  rolled  back  upon  him 
with  redoubled  weight,  and  the  depths  closed  over  him  again. 
'•'  Satan,"  says  he,  "  started  up  in  haste,  that  he  might  not  lose 
his  possession,  and  wrought  in  me  as  he  was  wont."^  A  ter- 
rible struggle  between  the  word  of  God  and  the  word  of  the 
Church  now  ensued  in  his  heart.     If  he  fell  in  with  any  pas- 

*  Cluo  plus  pergere  et  promovere  adnitebar,  eo  amplius  retrocedebam. 
(Far.  Galeoto,  MS.  Letters  at  Neuchatel.) 

+  Cluse  de  Sanctis  conscripta  offendebam,  verum  ex  stulto  insanum  fa- 
ciebant.     (Ibid.) 

\  Farel  a  tous  seigneurs.  §  Ibid. 


856  GLEAMS    OF    LIGHT. 

sage  of  Scripture  opposed  to  the  practice  of  the  Romish 
Church,  he  cast  down  his  eyes  in  perplexity,  not  daring  to 
credit  what  he  read.*  "  Ah  !"  he  would  say,  shrinking  away 
from  the  Bible,  "  I  do  not  well  understand  these  things ; — I 
musfput  a  different  construction  on  these  passages  from  that 
which  they  seem  to  me  to  bear.  I  must  hold  to  the  interpre- 
tation of  the  Church, — or  rather,  of  the  Pope!" 

One  day,  when  he  was  reading  the  Bible,  a  doctor,  who 
chanced  to  come  in,  rebuked  him  sharply.  "  No  one,"  said 
he,  "ought  to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures  until  he  has  studied 
philosophy,  and  taken  his  degree  in  arts.''''  This  was  a  pre- 
paration the  Apostles  had  never  required  ; — but  Farel  believed 
him.  "  I  was  the  most  unhappy  of  men,"  he  tells  us,  "  for  I 
turned  away  my  eyes  from  the  light."f 

The  young  Dauphinese  was  now  visited  with  a  fresh  par- 
oxysm of  Romish  fervor.  His  imagination  was  inflamed  by 
the  legends  of  the  saints.  The  severities  of  monastic  discipline 
were  to  him  a  powerful  attraction.  There  was  a  cluster  of 
gloomy  cells  in  a  wood  not  far  distant  from  Paris,  occupied  by 
an  establishment  of  Carthusians :  hither  he  often  repaired  as 
an  humble  visitor,  and  took  part  in  the  austerities  of  the  monks. 
"  I  was  busied  day  and  night,"  he  says,  "  in  serving  the  devil 
after  the  fashion  of  the  Pope, — that  man  of  sin.  I  had  my 
Pantheon  in  my  heart,  and  so  many  intercessors,  so  many 
saviours,  so  many  gods,  that  I  might  well  have  passed  for  a 
Popish  register." 

The  darkness  could  never  grow  thicker, — but  now  the 
morning  star  was  to  arise  ;  and  the  voice  of  Lefevre  was  to 
give  the  signal  of  its  appearance.  The  Doctor  of  Etaples  had 
already  caught  some  gleams  of  light :  an  inward  conviction 
assured  him  that  the  Church  could  not  remain  in  the  state  in 
which  she  then  was  ; — and  often  on  his  way  homeward,  after 
chanting  the  mass,  or  paying  adoration  to  an  image,  the  old 
man  would  turn  to  his  youthful  disciple,  and  say  in  a  so  emn 
tone,  as  he  grasped  him  by  the  hand  : — "  My  dear  William 

*  Oculos  demittens,  visis  non  credebam.     (Farel  Natali  Galeoto.) 
+  Oculos  a  luce  avertebam. 


LEFEVRE  TURNS  TO  ST.  PAUL.  357 

God  will  change  the  face  of  the  world, — and  you  will  see  it  !"* 
Farel  did  not  properly  conceive  his  meaning.  But  Lefevre 
did  not  stop  at  these  mysterious  words  ;  and  the  great  change 
which  was  wrought  in  his  mind  about  this  time  was  appointed 
to  produce  a  similar  change  in  the  mind  of  his  pupil. 

The  old  Doctor  had  undertaken  a  task  of  immense  labour ; 
he  was  carefully  collecting  the  legends  of  the  saints  and  mar- 
tyrs, and  arranging  them  in  the  order  in  which  their  names 
are  inserted  in  the  calendar.  Two  months  had  already  been 
printed,  when  one  of  those  rays  of  light  that  come  from  on  high 
flashed  on  a  sudden  into  his  soul.  He  could  no  longer  over- 
come the  disgust  which  superstitions  so  puerile  must  ever  ex- 
cite in  a  christian  heart.  The  grandeur  of  the  word  of  God 
made  him  perceive  the  w^retched  folly  of  such  fables.  They 
now  appeared  to  him  but  as  "  brimstone,  fit  only  to  kindle  the 
fire  of  idolatry."!  He  abandoned  his  work,  and,  casting  aside 
all  these  legends,  turned  affectionately  to  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
At  that  moment,  when  Lefevre,  forsaking  the  marvellous  his- 
tories of  the  saints,  laid  his  hand  on  the  word  of  God,  a  new 
era  opened  in  France, — and  the  Reformation  commenced  its 
course. 

Weaned,  as  we  have  seen,  from  the  fictions  of  the  Breviary, 
Lefevre  began  to  study  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul :  the  light 
grew  rapidly  in  his  heart,  and  he  soon  communicated  to  his 
disciples  that  knowledge  of  the  truth,  which  we  find  in  his 
Commentaries.^  Those  were  strange  doctrines  for  the  schools 
and  for  the  world  around  him,  which  were  then  first  heard 
in  Paris,  and  disseminated  by  printing  presses  through  all 

*  A  tous  seigneurs. — See  also  his  letter  to  Pellican.  Ante  annos  plus 
minus  quadraginta,  me  manu  apprehensum  ita  alloquebatur : — "Guil- 
lelme,  oportet  orbem  immutari  et  tu  videlns !" 

t  A  tous  seigneurs,  peuples  et  pasteurs. 

t  The  first  edition  of  his  Commentary  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  bears 
the  date,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  1512.  There  is  a  copy  of  it  in  the  Royal 
Library  at  Paris.  The  second  edition  is  that  to  which  my  citations  re- 
fer. The  learned  Simon,  in  his  observations  on  the  New  Testament, 
says,  "James  Lefevre  must  be  ranked  among  the  most  able  commenta- 
tors of  his  age." 


358  LEFEVRE    ON    WORKS. 

Christendom.  We  may  imagine  that  the  young  students  who 
listened  were  aroused,  impressed,  and  changed ;  and  that  in 
this  way  the  aurora  of  a  brighter  day  had  dawned  upon 
France  prior  to  the  year  1512. 

The  great  truth  of  Justification  by  Faith,  which  at  once 
overturns  the  subtilties  of  the  schools  and  the  Popish  doctrine 
of  the  efficacy  of  works,  was  boldly  proclaimed  in  the  very 
bosom  of  Sorbonne  itself  "  It  is  God  alone,"  said  the  teacher, 
(and  it  might  have  seemed  as  if  the  very  roofs  of  the  univer- 
sity would  cry  out  against  such  new  sounds,)  "  It  is  God  alone, 
who  by  His  grace  justifies  unto  eternal  life*  There  is  a 
righteousness  of  our  own  works,  and  a  righteousness  which  is 
of  grace, — the  one  a  thing  of  man's  invention,  the  other  com- 
ing from  God, — the  one  earthly  and  passing  away,  the  other 
divine  and  everlasting, — the  one  the  shadow  and  semblance, 
the  otxher  the  light  and  the  truth, — the  one  discovering  sm  and 
bringing  the  fear  of  death— the  other  revealing  grace  for  the 
attainment  ot  life  !"t 

"  What  will  you  then  say?"  enquired  the  hearers,  to  whom 
such  sounds  appeared  to  contradict  the  teaching  of  four  centu- 
ries, "  will  you  say  that  any  one  man  was  ever  justified  with- 
out works  ?" — "  One^  do  you  ask  ?"  returned  Lefevre,  "  why 
they  are  innumerable.  How  many  shameful  sinners  have 
eagerly  asked  to  be  baptized,  having  nothing  but  faith  in 
Christ  alone,  and  who,  if  they  died  the  moment  after,  entered 
into  the  life  of  the  blessed  without  works."^ — "  If,  then,  we  are^ 
not  justified  by  works,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  should  do  them," 
replied  some.  To  this  the  Doctor  made  answer,— and  possi- 
bly the  other  Reformers  might  not  have  altogether  gone  wi^h 
him  in  his  reply:- — "  Gluite  the  contrary,— it  is  not  in  vain. 
If  I  hold  up  a  mirror  to  the  Sun,  it  receives  in  it  his  image : 
the  more  I  polish  and  clean  the  mirror,  the  brighter  does  the 
reflection  of  the  sun  shine  in  it;  but  if  I  suffer  it  to  tarnish  and 

*  Solus  enim  Deus  est  qui  banc  justitiam  pe'^  fidem  tradit,  qui  sola 
gratia  ad  vitara  justificat  seternam.     (Fabri  Comm.  in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  70.) 

t  Ilia  uinbratile  vestigium  atque  eignum,  hje'"  lux  et  Veritas  est.  (Fab^j 
Comm.  in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  70.) 


UNIVERSITY    AMUSEMENTS.  359 

dull,  the  solar  brilliancy  is  lost.  So  it  is  v/ith  Justification  in 
those  who  lead  an  unholy  life."  In  this  passage,  Lefevre,  like 
St.  Augustin,  in  several  parts  of  his  writings,  does  not  perhaps 
sufficiently  mark  the  distinction  between  justification  and  sanc- 
tification.  The  Doctor  of  Etnples  often  reminds  us  of  him  of 
Hippone.  Those  who  lead  an  unholy  life  have  never  re- 
ceived justification, — hence  such  cannot  lose  it.  But  Lefevre 
perhaps  intended  to  say  that  the  Christian,  when  he  falls  into 
any  sin,  loses  the  assurance  of  his  salvation,  and  not  his  salva- 
tion itself*  To  this  way  of  stating  it  there  would  be  nothing 
to  object. 

Thus  a  new  life  and  a  new  character  of  teaching  had  pene- 
trated within  the  University  of  Paris.  The  doctrine  of  Faith, 
which  in  the  first  ages  had  been  preached  in  Gaul  by  Potinus 
and  Irenaeus,  was  again  heard.  Thenceforward  there  were 
two  different  parties  and  two  different  peoples  in  that  cele- 
brated school  The  instructions  given  by  Lefevre, — the  zeal 
of  his  disciples,  formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  dry  teaching 
of  the  majority  of  its  doctors,  and  the  frivolous  conversation  of 
the  generality  of  the  students.  In  the  colleges,  more  time  was 
lost  in  committing  to  memory  different  parts  in  comedies,  mas- 
querading, and  mountebank  farces,  than  was  given  to  the  study 
of  God's  word.  In  such  farces  it  not  unfrequently  happened 
that  the  respect  due  to  the  higher  classes,  the  nobility,  and 
even  royalty  itself,  was  forgotten.  At  the  very  time  we  are 
writing  of,  the  Parliament  intervened,  and  summoning  befce 
them  the  principals  of  several  of  the  colleges,  prohibited  those 
indulgent  luto.s  from  suffering  such  comedies  to  be  acted  in 
their  houses. f 

But  a  mightier  intervention  than  the  mandates  of  Parlia- 
ment came  to  the  correction  of  these  disorders  in  the  Univer- 

*  The  believer  may  well  bless  God  for  tb''='  truth,  namely,  that  he  may 
lose  the  Q seiitimenC)  assurance  of  his  salvation  without  his  salvation 
being  endangered.  The  cloud  may,  and  it  is  Relieved  often  has,  involved 
the  vessel  during  the  greater  part  of  her  course,  which  is  not  the  less  ad- 
vancing unto  the  haven  where  she  would  be.  Is  Christ  in  the  vessel  1— 
is  that  which  concerns  us. —  7V. 

t  Crevier  Hist,  de  i'Universite,  V.  p.  95. 


360  FAITH    AND    "xVORKS. 

sity:  Christ  was  preached  among  its  inmates.  Great  was 
the  commotion  on  its  benches ;  and  the  minds  of  the  students 
were  almost  as  generally  occupied  with  discussions  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel,  as  in  scholastic  sublilties  or  theatrical  ex- 
hibitions. Some  of  those  whose  lives  were  least  able  to  bear 
the  light,  were  yet  heard  taking  the  part  of  works,  and  feeling 
instinctively  that  the  doctrine  of  Faith  condemned  the  licenti- 
ousness of  their  lives, — they  maintained  that  St.  James,  in  his 
epistle,  was  at  variance  with  the  writings  of  St.  Paul.  Le- 
fevre,  resolving  to  stand  by  and  protect  the  treasure  he  had 
found,  showed  how  the  two  Apostles  agreed  :  "  Does  not  St. 
James  say,"  asked  he  "  that  every  good  and  perfect  gift  cometh 
down  from  above, — and  who  will  contest  that  justification  is 
the  perfect  gift,  the  excellent  grace?  ...  If  we  see  a  man 
moving,  the  breathing  we  see  in  him  is  to  us  the  sign  of  life. 
Thus  works  are  necessary,  but  only  as  signs  of  that  living 
faith  which  is  accompanied  by  justification.*  Is  it  the  eye- 
salve  or  lotion  which  gives  light  to  the  eye  ?  No ;  it  is  the  light 
of  the  sun.  Just  so  our  works  are  but  as  eye-salves  and  lo- 
tions ;  the  beam  that  the  sun  sends  forth  from  above  is  justifi- 
cation itself"! 

Farel  himg  upon  these  sounds  with  intense  interest.  In- 
stantly this  word  of  a  Salvation  by  Grace  had  upon  his  soul 
an  unspeakable  power  of  attraction.  Every  objection  fell, — 
every  difficulty  vanished.  Scarcely  had  Lefevre  brought  for- 
ward this  doctrine,  when  Farel  embraced  it  with  all  his  heart 
and  mind.  He  had  known  enough  of  labour  and  conflict  to 
be  convinced  that  he  had  no  power  to  save  himself;  therefore, 
when  he  saw  in  God's  word  that  God  saves  freely,  he  be- 
lieved God.  "  Lefevre,"  exclaimed  he,  "  extricated  me  from 
the  delusive  thought  of  human  deservings,  and  taught  me  how 
that  all  is  of  Grace, — which  I  believed  as  soon  as  it  was 
spoken."J     Thus  was  gained  to  the  fiiith  by  a  conversion  as 

*  Opera  signa  vivse  fidei,  quam  justificatio  sequitur.  (Fabri  Coram, 
in  Epp.  Pauli,  p.  73.) 

t  Sed  radius  desuper  a  sole  vibratus,  justificatio  est.     (Ibid.  p.  73.) 
X  Farel.     A  tous  seigneurs. 


PARADOXICAL    TRUTH.  361 

prompt  and  decisive  as  that  of  St.  Paul  himself,  that  Farel 
who,  to  use  the  words  of  Theodore  Beza,  undismayed  by 
threatening,  despising  the  shame  and  enduring  his  cross,  won 
for  Christ, — Montbelliard,  Neufchatel,  Lausanne,  Aigle,  and 
at  last  Geneva  itself.* 

Meanwhile  Lefevre,  following  up  his  teaching,  and  taking 
delight  in  employing  contrasts  and  paradoxes,  embodying 
weighty  truths,  extolled  the  sublime  mysteries  of  redemption. 
"Oh!"  he  exclaimed,  "the  unspeakable  greatness  of  that  ex- 
change,— the  sinless  One  is  condemned,  and  he  who  is  guilty 
goes  free, — the  Blessing  bears  the  curse,  and  the  cursed  is 
brought  into  blessing, — the  Life  dies,  and  the  dead  live, — the 
Glory  is  whelmed  in  darkness,  and  he  who  knew  nothing  but 
confusion  of  face  is  clothed  with  glory."f  The  pious  teacher, 
going  yet  deeper  into  his  theme,  recognised  that  all  salvation 
emanates  from  the  sovereignty  of  God's  love:  "They  who 
are  saved,"  said  he,  "  are  saved  by  the  electing  grace  and  will 
of  God,  not  by  their  own  will.  Our  election,  our  will,  our 
working  is  all  in  vain ;  the  alone  election  of  God  is  all  pow- 
erful !  When  we  are  converted,  it  is  not  our  conversion 
which  makes  us  the  elect  of  God,  but  it  is  the  grace,  will,  and 
election  of  God  which  work  our  conversion. "J; 

But  Lefevre  did  not  stop  short  in  doctrines ;  if  he  gave  to 
God  the  glory, — he  turned  to  man  for  "  the  obedience,"  and 
urged  the  obligations  flowing  from  the  exceeding  privileges 
of  the  Christian.  "  If  thou  art  a  member  of  Christ's  church," 
said  he,  "thou  art  a  member  of  his  body;  if  thou  art  of  his 
body,  then  thou  art  full  of  the  Divine  nature,  for  the  '  fulness 
of  the  Godhead  dwelleth  in  him  bodily.'  Oh!  if  men  could 
but  enter  into  the  understanding  of  this  privilege,  how  purely, 
ch'istfly,  and  holily  would  they  live,  and  h5w  contemptible, 
when  compared   with  the  glory  within   them, — that   glory 

*  Nullis  difficultatibus  fractus,  nullis  minis,  convitiis,  verberibus  deni- 

que  infilictis  territus.     (Bezae  Icones.) 

t  O  ineffabile  coinmerciuin  !  .  .  .  (Fabri  Coram.  145  verso.) 

X  Inefficax  est  ad  hoc  ipsnm  nostra  voluntas,  nostra  electio ;  Dei  att- 

tem  electio  efficacissima  etpotentissima,  &c.     (Ibid.  p.  89.  verso.) 
VOL.    III.  31 


362  FAREL    AND    THE    SAINTS. 

which  the  eye  of  flesh  cannot  see, — would  they  deem  all  the 
glory  of  this  world."* 

Lefevre  felt  that  the  office  of  a  teacher  in  heavenly  things 
was  a  hig-h  distinction  :  he  discharged  that  office  with  unvary- 
ing fidelity.  The  dissolute  morals  of  the  age,  and  more  espe- 
cially of  the  clergy,  roused  his  indignation,  and  was  the  theme 
of  many  a  stern  rebuke :  "  What  a  reproach,"  said  he,  "  to 
hear  a  bishop  asking  persons  to  drink  with  him,  gambling, 
shaking  the  dice,  and  spending  his  whole  time  in  hawking, 
sporting,  hunting,  hallooing  in  the  chase  of  wild  beasts,  and 
sometimes  with  his  feet  in  houses  of  ill-fame.f  .  ,  .  O  men 
worthy  of  a  more  signal  retribution  than  Sardanapalus  himself!" 

Such  was  the  preaching  of  Lefevre.  Farel  listened,  trem- 
bling with  emotion, — received  all  into  his  soul,  and  went  for- 
ward in  that  new  path  now  suddenly  made  plain  before  him. 
Nevertheless  there  was  one  article  of  his  former  creed  which 
he  could  not  as  yet  entirely  relinquish  ;  it  was  the  invocation 
of  the  saints.  The  noblest  minds  have  often  these  lingering 
remains  of  darkness  after  the  light  has  broken  in  upon  them. 
Farel  heard  with  astonishment  the  teacher  declare  that  Christ 
alone  should  be  invoked :  "  Our  religion."  said  Lefevre,  "has 
only  one  foundation,  one  object,  one  head,  Jesus  Christ,  blessed 
forever!  he  hath  trodden  the  winepress  alone.  Let  us  not 
then  take  the  name  of  Paul,  of  Apollos,  or  of  Peter.  The 
cross  of  Christ  alone  opens  heaven,  and  shuts  the  gate  of  hell." 
These  words  wakened  a  struggle  in  the  soul  of  Farel.  On 
the  one  hand  he  beheld  the  whole  army  of  saints  with  the 
Church, — on  the  other,  Jesus  Christ  and  His  preacher.  One 
moment  he  inclined  to  the  one  side,  the  next  to  the  other.  It 
was  the  last  hold  of  ancient  error,  and  his  final  struggle.  He 
hesitated  ;  still  cltngingto  those  venerated  names  before  which 
Rome  bends  adoringly.  At  Inst  the  decisive  blow  was  struck 
from  above;  the  scales  fell  from  his  eyes  ;  Jesus  was  seen  by 

*  Si  (le  corpore  Christi,  divinitate  repletus  es.  (Fabri  Conim.  p.  176. 
verso.) 

+  Et  virgunculas  gremio  tenentera,  cum  suaviis  sermones  miscentem. 
(Ibid.  p.  208.) 


ALLMAN    REFUTES    DE    VIO.  363 

him  as  the  only  object  of  adoration.  "  From  that  moment," 
said  he,  "the  Papacy  was  dethroned  from  my  mind.  I  began 
to  abhor  it  as  devilish,  and  the  holy  word  of  God  held  the  su- 
preme place  in  my  heart."* 

Events  in  the  great  world  accelerated  the  advance  of  Farel 
and  his  friends.  Thomas  De  Vio,  who  was  subsequently  op- 
posed at  Augsburg  against  Luther,  having  contended  in  a 
printed  work  that  the  Pope  was  absolute  monarch  of  the 
Church,  Louis  XII.  called  the  attention  of  the  University  of 
Paris  to  the  work  in  February,  1512.  James  Allman,  one 
of  the  youngest  of  its  doctors,  a  man  of  rare  genius  and  un- 
wearied application,  read  at  one  of  the  meetings  of  the  faculty 
of  theology  a  refutation  of  the  Cardinal's  argumients,  which 
drew  forth  the  plaudits  of  the  assembly.! 

What  must  have  been  the  effect  of  such  discussions  on  the 
young  disciples  of  Lefevre?  Could  they  hesitate  when  the 
university  itself  manifested  an  impatience  of  the  Papal  yoke  ? 
If  the  main  body  were  in  motion  should  not  they  be  skirmish- 
ing at  the  advanced  posts  ?  "  It  was  necessary,"  said  Farel, 
"  that  the  Papal  authority  should  be  very  gradually  expelled 
from  my  mind,  for  the  first  shock  did  not  bring  it  down."J 
He  contemplated  the  abyss  of  superstitions  in  which  he  had 
been  plunged  ;  standing  on  its  brink,  he  again  surveyed  its 
gloomy  depths,  and  drew  back  with  a  feeling  of  terror : — 
Oh!"  ejaculated  he,  "what  horror  do  I  feel  for  myself  and 
my  sins  when  I  think  of  the  past.§  Lord,"  he  continued, 
"  would  that  my  soul  served  Thee  with  living  faith  after  the 
example  of  thy  faithful  servants  !  Would  that  I  had  sought 
after  and  honoured  Thee  as  I  have  yielded  my  heart  to  the 
mass,  and  served  that  magic  wafer, — giving  all  honour  to 
that !"  Grieving  over  his  past  life,  he  with  tears  repeated 
those  words  of  St.  Augustine,  "  I  have  come  too  late  to  the 
knowledge  of  Thee!  too  late  have  I  begun  to  love  Thee!" 
Farel  had  found  Christ;  and  safe  in  harbour  he  reposed  in 

*  Farel.     A  tous  seigneurs, 

t  Crevier  Hist,  de  I'Universite  de  Paris,  v.  p.  81. 

I  Farel,     A  tous  seigneurs,  §  Ibid. 


364  HAPPY    CHANGE    IN    FAREL. 

peace  after  the  storm.*  "Now."  said  he,  "every  thing  ap- 
pears to  me  to  wear  a  different  aspect.!  Scripture  is  eluci- 
dated,  prophecy  is  opened,  and  the  epistles  cany  wonderful 
lig-ht  into  my  soul. J  A  voice  before  unknown — the  voice  of 
Christ,  my  shepherd  and  my  teacher,  speaks  to  me  with  power."  § 
So  great  was  the  change  in  him  that  "  instead  of  the  mur- 
derous heart  of  a  ravening  wolf,"  he  came  back,  as  he 
himself  tells  us,  "  like  a  gentle  and  harmless  lamb,  with  his 
heart  entirely  withdrawn  from  the  Pope  and  given  to  Jesus 
Christ."}! 

Escaped  from  so  great  an  evil,  he  turned  toward  the  Bible,^ 
and  applied  himself  zealously  to  the  acquirement  of  Greek 
and  Hebrew.*  *  He  was  unremitting  in  his  study  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  esteeming  them  more  and  more,  and  daily  receiv- 
ing more  light.  He  continued  to  resort  to  the  churches  of 
the  established  worship — but  what  did  he  there  hear? — Re- 
sponses and  chauntings  innumerable,  words  spoken  without 
understanding.!!  Often,  when  standing  among  the  throng  that 
gathered  round  an  image  or  an  altar,  he  would  exclaim, — 
"  Thou  alone  art  God  !  Thou  alone  art  wise  !  Thou  alone 
art  good  IJJ  Nothing  should  be  taken  away — nothing  added 
to  thy  holy  law — for  Thou  only  art  the  Lord,  and  it  is  Thou 
alone  who  claimest  and  hast  a  right  to  our  obedience." 

Thus  all  human  teachers  were  brought  down  from  the 
height  to  which  his  imagination  had  raised  them,  and  he  re- 
cognized no  authority  but  God  and  his  word.  The  doctors 
of  Paris,  by  their  persecution  of  Lefevre,  had  long  since  lost 

*  Animus  per  varia  jactatus,  verum  nactus  portuiBj  soli  hsesit.  (Fare! 
Galeoto.) 

t  Jam  rerum  nova  facies.     (Ibid.) 

X  Notior  scriptura,  apertiores  prophetse,  lucidiores  apostoli.     (Ibid.) 

§  Agnita  pastoris,  magistri  et  prseceptoris  Christi  vox.     (Ibid.) 

II  Farel.     A  tous  seigneurs. 

IT  Lego  sacra  ut  causam  inveniam.     (Farel  Galeoto.) 

**  Life  of  Farel.     MSS.  of  Geneva  and  of  Choupard. 

it  Clamores  multi,  cantiones  innumerae.  (Farel  Galeoto,  MSS.  of 
Neufchatel.) 

}|  Vere  tu  solus  Dcus !     (Ibid.) 


PIERRE    OLIVETAN.  365 

all  place  in  his  esteem  ;  but  ere  long  Lefevre  himself,  his 
well-beloved  guide  and  counsellor,  was  no  more  to  him  than 
his  fellow-man:  he  loved  and  venerated  hiin  as  long  as  he 
lived — but  God  alone  was  become  his  teacher. 

Of  all  the  Reformers,  Farel  and  Luther  are  the  two  best 
known  to  us  in  their  early  spiritual  history,  and  most  memor- 
able for  the  struggles  they  had  to  pass  through.  Earnest  and 
energetic,  men  of  conflict  and  strife,  they  bore  the  brunt  of 
many  an  onset  before  they  were  permitted  to  be  at  peace.  Fa- 
rel is  the  pioneer  of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland  and  in 
France.  He  threw  himself  into  the  wood,  and  with  his  axe 
cleared  a  passage  through  a  forest  of  abuses.  Calvin  follow- 
ed, as  Luther  was  followed  by  Melancthon,  resembling  him 
in  his  office  of  theologian  and  "  master-builder."  These  two 
men, — who  bear  some  resemblance  to  the  legislators  of  anti- 
quity, the  one  in  its  graceful,  the  other  in  its  severer  style, — 
settle,  establish,  and  give  laws  to  the  territory  won  by  the  two 
former.  And  yet  if  Farel  reminds  us  of  Luther,  we  must 
allow  that  it  is  only  in  one  aspect  of  the  latter  that  we  are  re- 
minded of  him.  Luther,  besides  his  superior  genius,  had,  in 
all  that  concerned  the  Church,  a  moderation  and  prudence,  an 
acquaintance  with  past  experience,  a  comprehensive  judgment, 
and  even  a  power  of  order,  which  was  not  found  in  an  equal 
degree  in  the  Reformer  of  Dauphiny. 

Farel  was  not  the  only  young  Frenchman  into  whose  soul 
a  new  light  was,  at  this  time,  introduced.  The  doctrines 
which  flowed  from  the  lips  of  the  far-famed  doctor  of  Etaples 
fermented  among  the  crowd  of  his  hearers;  and  in  his  school 
were  formed  and  trained  the  bold  men  who  were  ordained  to 
struggle,  even  to  the  very  foot  of  the  scaffold.  They  listened, 
compared,  discussed,  and  argued  with  characteristic  vivacity. 
It  is  a  probable  conjecture,  that  we  may  number  among  the 
handful  of  scholars  who  then  espoused  the  Truth,  young 
Pierre  Olivetan,  born  at  Noyon,  at  the  end  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  who  afterwards  revised  Lefevre's  translation  of  the 
Bible  into  French,  and  seems  to  have  been  the  first  who  so 
presented  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  as  to  draw  the  attention 

31* 


366  INDEPENDENCE    AND    PRIORITY 

of  a  youth  of  his  family,  also  a  native  of  Noyon,  who  became 
the  most  distinguished  of  all  the  leaders  of  the  Reformation.* 

Thus,  before  1512,  at  a  time  when  Luther  had  made  no 
impression  on  the  world,  but  was  taking-  a  journey  to  Rome 
on  some  business  touching  the  interests  of  some  monks,  and 
when  Zwingle  had  not  even  begun  to  apply  himself  in  earnest 
to  Biblical  studies,  but  was  traversing  the  Alps,  in  company 
with  the  confederated  forces,  to  fight  under  the  Pope's  banner, 
— Paris  andPrance  heard  the  sound  of  those  life-giving  truths, 
whence  the  Reformation  was  destined  to  come  foith — and 
there  were  found  souls  prepared  to  propagate  those  sounds, 
who  received  them  with  holy  affection.  Accordingly,  Theo- 
dore Beza,  in  speaking  of  Lefevre  of  Etaples,  observes  that 
"it  was  he  who  boldly  began  the  revival  of  the  holy  religion 
of  Jesus  Christ;"!  and  he  remarks  that,  "ae  in  ancient  times, 
the  school  of  Isocrates  had  the  reputation  of  furnishing  the 
best  orators,  so,  from  the  lecture-rooms  of  the  doctor  of 
Etaples,  went  forth  many  of  the  best  men  of  the  age,  and  of 
the  Church."}: 

The  Reformation  was  not,  therefore,  in  France,  an  impor- 
tation from  strangers ;  it  took  its  birth  on  the  French  territory. 
Its  seed  germinated  in  Paris — its  earliest  shoots  were  struck 
in  the  University  itself,  that  ranked  second  in  power  in  Rom- 
anized Christendom.  God  deposited  the  first  principles  of  the 
work  in  the  kindly  hearts  of  some  inhabitants  of  Picardy  and 
Dauphiny,  before  it  had  begun  in  any  other  country  of  the 
globe.  The  Swiss  Reformation  was,  as  we  have  seen, J  inde- 
pendent of  that  of  Germany;  the  French  Reformation  was,  in 
like  manner,  independent  of  that  of  Switzerland,  and  that  of 
Germany.  The  work  sprung  up  in  these  different  countries 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  without  communication  between 
them,  as  in  a  field  of  battle,  the  various  divisions  that  compose 

*  Biographie  Universelle,  Article  Olivetan.  Histoire  du  Calvinisme, 
par  Maimbourg,  53. 

t  Et  purioris  religionis  instaurationem  fortiter  agressus.    (BezsB  Icones.) 

i  Sic  ex  Stap  ulensia  auditorio  prsestantissimi  viri  plurimi  prodierint. 
(Ibid.) 

§  Vol.  u.  p.  267. 


OF    THE    REFORMATION.  367 

the  army  are  seen  in  motion  at  the  same  instant,  although  the 
order  to  advance  has  not  passed  from  one  to  the  other,  but  all 
have  heard  the  word  of  command  proceeding  from  a  higher 
authority.  The  time  had  come — the  nations  were  ripe,  and 
God  was  everywhere  beginning  the  revival  of  His  Church. 

If  we  regard  dates,  we  must  then  confess  that  neither  to 
Switzerland  nor  to  Germany  belongs  the  honour  of  having 
been  first  in  the  work,  although,  hitherto,  only  those  countries 
have  contended  for  it.  That  honour  belongs  to  France.  This 
is  a  fact  that  we  are  the  more  careful  to  establish,  because  it 
has  possibly,  until  now,  been  overlooked.  Without  dwelling 
upon  the  influence  exercised  by  Lefevre,  directly  or  indirectly, 
on  many  persons,  and  especially  on  Calvin, — let  us  consider 
that  which  he  had  on  one  of  his  disciples,  Farel  himself, — 
and  the  energy  of  action  which  that  servant  of  God  from  that 
hour  manifested.  Can  we,  after  that,  withhold  our  conviction 
that  even  though  Zwingle  and  Luther  should  never  have  been 
born,  there  would  still  have  been  a  movement  of  Reformation 
in  France?  It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  estimate  how  far  it 
might  have  extended:  we  must  even  acknowledge  that  the 
report  of  what  was  passing  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine  and 
the  Jura,  afterwards  accelerated  and  animated  the  progress  of 
the  Reformers  of  France.  But  it  was  they  who  were  first 
awakened  by  the  voice  of  that  trumpet  which  sounded  from 
heaven  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  who  were  earliest  in  the 
field,  on  foot,  and  under  arms. 

Nevertheless,  Luther  is  the  great  w^orkman  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and,  in  the  fullest  import  of  the  term,  the  first  Re- 
former. Lefevre  is  not  as  complete  as  Calvin,  Farel,  or 
Luther.  There  is  about  him  that  which  reminds  us  of  Wit- 
temberg — of  Geneva — but  a  something  besides,  that  tells  of 
the  Sorbonne;  he  is  the  foremost  Catholic  in  the  Reformation 
movement,  and  the  latest  of  the  Reformers  in  the  Catholic 
movement.  To  the  last,  he  continues  a  go  between, — a  me- 
diator,— not  well  understood  ;  reminding  us  that  there  is  some 
connection  between  the  old  things  and  the  new,  which  might 
seem  for  ever  separated  as  by  a  great  gulf     Repulsed  and 


368  FRANCIS    OP    ANGOULEME. 

persecuted  by  Rome,  he  yet  holds  to  Rome,  by  a  slender 
thread  which  he  is  unwilling  to  sever.  Lefevre  of  Etaples 
has  a  place  to  himself  in  the  theology  of  the  sixteenth  century: 
he  is  the  connecting  link  between  ancient  and  modern  times, 
and  the  man  in  whom  the  theology  of  the  middle  ages  passed 
into  the  theology  of  the  Reformation. 

Thus,  in  the  University,  the  truth  was  already  working. 
But  the  Reformation  was  not  to  be  an  affair  of  college  life.  It 
was  to  establish  its  power  among  the  great  ones  of  the  earth, 
and  to  have  some  witnesses  even  at  the  King's  court. 

The  young  Francis  of  Angouleme,  cousin-german  and  son- 
in-law  to  Louis  XII.,  succeeded  him  on  the  throne.  His 
manly  beauty  and  address,  his  courage,  and  his  love  of  plea- 
sure, rendered  him  the  most  accomplished  knight  of  his  time. 
His  ambition,  however,  rose  higher;  it  was  his  aim  to  be  a 
great  and  even  a  gracious  prince;  provided  only  that  all 
should  bend  before  his  sovereign  authority.  Valour,  taste  for 
literature,  and  gallantry,  are  three  words  that  well  express  the 
genius  of  Francis,  and  of  the  age  in  which  he  figured.  At  a 
somewhat  later  period,  the  like  features  appear  in  Henry  IV. 
and  Louis  XIV.  These  princes  wanted  that  which  the  Gos- 
pel communicates;  and,  although  there  has  been  no  time  when 
the  nation  did  not  contain  in  it  the  elements  of  sanctity  and  of 
Christian  elevation,  it  may  be  said  that  these  great  monarchs 
of  modern  France  have,  in  a  measure,  stamped  upon  that  peo- 
ple the  impress  of  their  own  characters,  if  it  be  not  more  cor- 
rect to  say  that  they  themselves  were  the  faithful  expression 
of  the  character  of  the  nation  over  which  they  presided.  If 
the  evangelic  doctrine  had  entered  France  under  the  auspices 
of  the  most  famed  of  the  Valois  princes,  it  might  have  brought 
with  it  to  the  nation  that  which  France  has  not, — a  spiritual 
turn  of  mind,  a  christian  purity,  and  an  intelligence  in  heavenly 
things,  which  would  have  been  the  completion  of  the  national 
character  in  what  most  contributes  to  the  strength  and  great- 
ness of  a  people. 

It  was  under  the  rule  of  Francis  I.  that  Europe,  as  well  as 
France,  passed  from  the  middle  ages  to  the  range  of  modern 


TWO    CLASSES    OF    COMBATANTS.  369 

history.  It  was  then  that  that  new  world  which  was  bursting 
forth  on  all  sides  when  that  prince  ascended  the  throne,  grew 
and  entered  upon  possession.  Two  different  classes  of  men 
exercised  an  influence  in  moulding  the  new  order  of  society. 
On  the  one  hand  were  the  men  of  faith,  who  were  also  men 
of  wisdom  and  moral  purity,  and  close  to  them,  the  writers  of 
the  court, — the  friends  of  this  world  and  its  profligacy, — who 
by  their  licentious  principles,  contributed  to  the  depravation 
of  morals  as  much  as  the  former  served  to  reform  them. 

If,  in  the  days  of  Francis  the  First,  Europe  had  not  wit- 
nessed the  rise  of  the  Reformers,  but  had  been  given  up  by 
God's  righteous  judgment  to  the  uncontrolled  influence  of  un- 
believing innovators,  her  fate  and  that  of  Christianity  had  been 
decided.  The  danger  seemed  great.  For  a  considerable  time, 
the  two  classes  of  combatants,  the  opposers  of  the  Pope,  and 
those  who  opposed  the  Gospel,  were  mixed  up  together;  and 
as  both  claimed  liberty^  they  seemed  to  resort  to  the  same 
arms  against  the  same  enemies.  In  the  cloud  of  dust  raised 
on  the  field,  an  unpractised  eye  could  not  distinguish  between 
them.  If  the  former  had  allowed  themselves  to  be  led  away 
by  the  latter  all  would  have  been  lost.  Those  who  assailed 
the  hierarchy  passed  quickly  into  extremes  of  impiety,  urging 
on  the  people  to  a  frightful  catastrophe.  The  Papacy  itself 
contributed  to  bring  about  that  catastrophe,  accelerating  b)'-  its 
ambition  and  disorders  the  extinction  of  any  truth  and  life  still 
left  in  the  Church. 

But  God  called  forth  the  Reformation, — and  Christianity 
was  preserved.  The  Reformers  who  had  shouted  for  liberty, 
Avere,  ere  long,  heard  calling  to  obedience.  The  very  men 
who  had  cast  down  that  throne  whence  the  Roman  Pontiff 
issued  his  oracles,  prostrated  themselves  before  the  'word  of 
the  Lord.'  Then  was  seen  a  clear  and  definite  separation, 
and  war  was  declared  between  the  two  divisions  of  the  as- 
sailants. The  one  party  had  desired  liberty  only  that  them- 
selves might  be  free, — the  others  had  claimed  it  for  the  word 
of  God.  The  Reformation  became  the  most  formidable  an- 
tagonist of  that  incredulity  to  which  Rome  can  show  leniency. 


370  MARGARET    OF    VALOIS. 

Having  restored  liberty  to  the  Church,  the  Reformers  re- 
stored religion  to  society ;  and  this  last  was,  of  the  two,  the 
gift  most  needed. 

The  votaries  of  incredulity,  for  a  while,  hoped  to  reckon 
among  their  number  Margaret  of  Valois,  Duchess  of  Alen- 
qon,  whom  Francis  loved  with  especial  tenderness,  and,  as 
Brantome  informs  us,  used  to  call  his  "darling."*  The  same 
tastes  and  general  information  distinguished  both  brother  and 
sister.  Of  fine  person  like  Francis,  Margaret  united  to  those 
eminent  qualities,  which  in  their  combination  constitutes  re- 
markable characters,  these  gentler  virtues  which  win  the 
affection.  In  the  gay  world,  the  festive  entertainment,  the  royal 
the  imperial  court,  she  shone  in  queenly  splendour,  charming 
and  captivating  all  hearts.  Passionately  fond  of  literature 
and  gifted  with  no  ordinary  genius,  it  was  her  delight  to  shut 
herself  in  her  apartment,  and  there  indulge  in  the  pleasures 
of  reflection,  study,  and  meditation.  But  her  ruling  desire 
was  to  do  good  and  prevent  evil.  When  ambassadors  from 
foreign  countries  had  presented  themselves  before  the  king, 
they  were  accustomed  afterwards  to  pay  their  respects  to  Mar- 
garet, and  "they  were  greatly  pleased  with  her,"  observes 
Brantome,  "  and  returning  to  their  homes,  noised  abroad  the 
fame  of  her:  and  he  adds  that  "the  king  would  often  hand 
over  to  her  matters  of  importance,  leaving  them  for  her  to 
decide."! 

This  celebrated  princess  was  through  life  distinguished  by 
her  strict  morals ;  but  whilst  many  who  carry  austerity  on 
their  lips,  indulge  laxity  in  conduct,  the  very  reverse  of  this 
was  seen  in  Margaret.  Blameless  in  conduct,  she  was  not 
altogether  irreproachable  in  the  use  of  her  pen.  Far  from 
wondering  at  this,  we  might  rather  wonder  that  a  woman 
dissolute  as  was  Louisa  of  Savoy,  should  have  a  daughter  so 
pure  as  Margaret.  Attending  the  court,  in  its  progress  through 
the  provinces,  she  employed  herself  in  describing  the  man- 
ners of  the  time,  and  especially  those  of  the  priests  and  monks, 

*  Vie  des  Dames  Illustres,  p.  333,  Haye  1740. 
t  Ibid,  p  337. 


TALENTS    OP    THE    QUEEN      OF     NAVARRE,  371 

''  On  these  occasions,"  says  Brantome,  "  I  often  used  to  hear 
her  recount  stories  to  my  grandmother,  who  constantly  ac- 
companied her  in  her  litter,  as  dame  (Vhonneur^  and  had 
charge  of  her  writing  desk."*  According  to  some,  we  have 
here  the  origin  of  the  Heptameron ;  but  more  recent  and 
esteemed  critics  have  satisfied  themselves  that  Margaret  had 
no  hand  in  forming  that  collection,  in  some  parts  chargeable 
with  worse  than  levity,  but  that  it  was  the  work  of  Desperiers, 
her  gentleman  of  the  chamber.f 

This  Margaret,  so  charming,  so  full  of  wit,  and  living  in 
so  polluted  an  atmosphere,  was  to  be  one  of  the  first  won  over 
by  the  religious  impulse  just  then  communicated  to  France. 
But  how,  in  the  centre  of  so  profane  a  court,  and  amid  the 
sounds  of  its  licentious  gossip  was  the  Duchess  of  Alenc^on  to 
be  reached  by  the  Reformation  ?  Her  soul,  led  to  look  to 
heaven,,  was  conscious  of  wants  that  the  Gospel  alone  could 
meet.  Grace  can  act  in  every  place,  and  Christianity, — which 
even  before  an  apostle  had  appeared  in  Rome,  had  some  fol- 
lowers among  the  household  of  Narcissus,  and  in  the  palace 
of  Nero,;}: — in  the  day  of  its  revival  rapidly  made  its  way  to 
the  court  of  Francis  the  First.  There  were  ladies  and  lords 
who  spoke  to  that  princess  concerning  the  things  of  faith,  and 
the  sun  which  was  then  rising  on  France,  sent  forth  one  of  its 

*  Vie  des  Dames  Iliustres,  p.  346. 

t  This  is  proved  by  one  of  the  most  distinguished  critics  of  the  oge, 
M.  Ch.  Nodier,  in  the  Rrvue  dea  Dznx  Mondes,  t.  xx.  wherein  he  observes, 
p.  350 — "  Desperiers  is  in  reality  and  almost  exclusively  author  of  the 
Heptameron.  I  scruple  not  to  say  I  have  no  doubt  of  this,  and  entirely 
coincide  in  the  opinion  of  Bouistuan,  who.  solely  on  this  account,  omit- 
ted and  withheld  the  name  of  the  Q.ueen  of  Navarre."  If,  as  I  think, 
Margaret  did  compose  some  tales,  doubtless  the  most  harmless  of  those  in 
the  Heptameron,  it  must  have  been  in  her  youth — just  after  her  marriage 
with  the  Duke  of  Alencon  (1509).  The  circumstances  mentioned  by 
Brantome,  p.  316,  that  the  king's  mother  and  Madame  de  Savoy  "  being 
young,"  wished  to  "imitate"  Margaret,  is  a  proof  of  this.  To  this  may 
be  added  the  evidence  of  De  Thou,  who  says,  "  Si  tempora  et  juvenilem 
ffitatem  in  qua  scriptum  est  respicias,  non  prorsus  damnandum,  certe 
gravitate  tantje  heroinae  et  extrema  vita  minus  dignum."  (Thuanus,  t. 
vi,  p.  1 17)     Brantome  and  De  Thou  are  two  uijobjectionable  witnes.ses, 

X  Romans  xvi.  11.     Phil.  iv.  22. 


372  THE    BISHOP    AND    THE    BIBLE. 

earliest  beams  on  a  man  of  eminent  station  by  whom  its  light 
was  immediately  reflected  on  the  Duchess  of  Alenqon. 

Among  the  most  distinguished  lords  of  the  court  was  Count 
William  of  Montbrun,  a  son  of  Cardinal  Briqonnet  of  St. 
Malo,  who  had  entered  the  church  on  his  being  left  a  widower. 
Count  William,  devoted  to  studious  pursuits,  himself  also  took 
orders,  and  was  bishop,  first  of  Lodeva,  and  afterwards  of 
Meaux.  Although  twice  sent  on  an  embassy  to  Rome,  he 
returned  to  Paris  unseduced  by  the  attractions  and  splendours 
of  Leo  X. 

At  the  period  of  his  return  to  France,  a  ferment  was  begin- 
ning to  manifest  itself  Farel,  as  Master  of  Arts,  was  lecturing 
in  the  college  of  Cardinal  Lemoine,  one  of  the  four  leading 
establishments  of  the  faculty  of  theology  of  Paris,  ranking 
equal  with  the  Sorbonne.  Two  countrymen  of  Lefevre,  Ar- 
naud  and  Gerard  Roussel,  and  some  others,  enlarged  this  little 
circle  of  free  and  noble  spirits.  Briqonnet,  who  had  so  re- 
cently quitted  the  festivals  of  Rome,  was  all  amazement  at 
what  had  been  doing  in  Paris  during  his  absence.  Thirst- 
ing after  the  truth,  he  renewed  his  former  intercourse  with 
Lefevre,  and  soon  passed  precious  hours  in  company  with  the 
Doctor  of  the  Sorbonne,  Farel,  the  two  Roussels,  and  their 
friends.*  Full  of  humility,  the  illustrious  prelate  sought  in- 
struction from  the  very  humblest,  but,  above  all,  he  sought  it 
of  the  Lord  himself  "/am  all  dark,"  said  he,  "  waiting  for 
the  grace  of  the  divine  fivour,  from  which  my  sins  have  ban- 
ished me."  His  mind  was  as  if  dazzhd  by  the  glory  of  the 
Gospel.  His  eye-lids  sunk  under  its  unheard-of  brightness. 
"The  eyes  of  all  mankind,"  exclaimed  he,  "cannot  take  in 
the  whole  light  of  that  sun  !"f 

Lefevre  had  commended  the  Bishop  to  the  Bible, — he  had 

*  Hi.stoire  de  la  Revocat.  de  I'edit  de  Nantes,  vol.  i.  p.  7.  Maim- 
bourg.  Hist,  du  Calv.  p.  12. 

t  These  expressions  cf  Briconnet  are  from  a  manuscript  in  the  Royal 
Library  at  Paris — entitled  Letters  of  Margaret  dueen  of  Navarre,  and 
which  is  marked  S.  F.  337.  I  shall  more  than  once  have  occasion  to 
quote  this  manuscript,  which  I  found  not  easy  to  decipher.  I  quote  the 
language  of  the  time. 


FRANCIS    ENCOURAGES    LEARNING.  373 

pointed  to  it  as  that  guiding  clue  whifh  ever  brings  us  back 
to  the  original  truth  of  Christianity,  such  as  it  existed  before 
all  schools,  sects,  ordinance's,  and  traditions  and  as  that  mighty 
agent  by  means  of  which  the  religion  of  Jtsus  Christ  is  re- 
newed in  power.  Briqonnet  read  the  Scriptures.  ''Such  is 
the  sweetness  of  that  heavenly  manna."  said  he,  "  that  it  never 
cloys ;  the  more  we  taste  of  it,  the  more  we  long  for  it."* 
The  simple  and  prevailing  truth  of  Salvation  filled  him 
with  joy  ; — he  had  found  Christ,  he  had  found  God  Himself. 
"  What  vessel,"  he  exclaimed,  "  is  capable  of  receiving  into  it 
such  vast  and  inexhaustible  grace.  But  the  mansion  expands 
with  our  desire  to  lodge  the  good  guest.  Faith  is  the  quarter- 
master who  alone  can  find  room  for  him,  or  rather  who  alone 
can  enable  us  to  dwell  in  himP  But,  at  the  same  time,  the 
excellent  bishop  grieved  to  see  that  living  word  which  the 
Reformation  gave  to  the  world  so  slighted  at  court,  in  the 
city,  and  among  the  people;  and  he  exclaimed,  "  Singular 
innovation,  so  wo: thy  of  acceptation,  and  yet  so  ill  re- 
ceived !'■ 

Thus  did  evangelic  truth  open  itself  a  way  into  the  midst 
of  the  frivolous,  dissolute,  and  literary  coiirt  of  Francis  I. 
Several  of  those  who  composed  it  aud  enioy^d  the  unlimited 
confidence  of  that  piince, — as  .John  du  B  llav.  du  Bude,  Cop, 
the  court  physician,  and  even  Petit,  the  king's  confessor, 
seemed  favourable  to  the  views  of  Briqonnet  and  Lefevre. 
Francis,  who  loved  learning,  and  invited  to  his  court  scholars 
"suspected"  of  Lutheranisiu.  "  in  the  thought,"  observes  Eras- 
mus,'-that  he  should,  in  that  way,  adorn  and  illustrate  his 
reign  better  than  he  could  do  by  trophies,  pyramids,  or  build- 
ings,"— was  himself  persuad*  d  by  hissister,  by  Biiqonnet  and 
the  learned  of  his  court  and  colleges.  He  was  present  at  the 
discussions  of  the  learned, — enjoyed  listening  to  their  discourse 
at  table, — and  would  call  them  •'  his  childr(n"  He  assisted 
to  prepare  the  way  for  the  word  of  God,  by  founding  professor- 
ships of  Hebrew  and  Greek. — accordingly,  Theodore  Beza 
thus  speaks,  when  placing  his  portrait  at  the  head  of  the  Re- 

*  Ibid. 
VOL.  in.  32 


374  MARGARET    EMBRACES    THE    GOSPEL. 

formers, — "  Pious  Reader !  do  not  shudder  at  the  sight  of  this 
adversary.  Ought  not  he  to  have  his  part  in  this  honour 
who  banished  barbarism  from  society,  and  with  firm  hand 
established  in  its  place  the  cultivation  of  three  languages  and 
profitable  studies  that  should  serve  as  the  portals  of  that  new 
structure  that  was  shortly  to  arise."* 

But  there  was  at  the  court  of  Francis  I.  one  soul  which 
seemed  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the  evangelic  doctrines  of 
the  teachers  of  Elaples  and  of  Meaux.  Margaret,  hesitating 
and  not  knowing  on  what  to  lean  in  the  midst  of  the  profligate 
society  that  surrounded  her,  sought  somewhat  on  which  her 
soul  might  rest, — and  found  it  in  the  Gospel.  She  turned  to- 
ward that  fresh  breath  of  life  which  was  then  reviving  the 
world,  and  inhaled  it  with  delight  as  coming  from  heaven. 
She  gathered  from  some  of  the  ladies  of  her  court  the  teaching 
of  the  new  preachers.  Some  there  were  who  lent  her  their 
writings,  and  certain  little  books,  called,  in  the  language  of 
the  time,  "  tracts  ;" — they  spoke  of  "the  primitive  church,  of 
the  pure  word  of  God,  of  a  worship  '  in  spirit  and  tiuth,'  of  a 
Christian  liberty  that  rejected  the  yoke  of  human  traditions 
and  superstitions,  that  it  might  adhere  singly  to  God."t  It 
was  not  long  before  this  princess  sought  interviews  with  Le- 
fevre,  Farel,  and  Roussf  1.  I'heir  zeal,  piety,  and  walk,  and 
all  she  saw  of  them,  impressed  her, — but  it  was  her  old  friend, 
the  bishop  of  Meaux,  who  was  her  guide  in  the  path  of 
faith. 

Thus,  at  the  glittering  court  of  Francis  I. — and  in  the  disso- 
lute house  of  Louisa  of  Savoy,  was  wrought  one  of  those  conver- 
sions of  the  heart  which  in  every  age  are  the  woik  of  the  word 
of  God.  Margaret  subsequently  recorded  in  her  poetictil  effu- 
sions the  various  emotions  of  her  soul  at  this  important  period 
of  her  life,  and  we  may  there  trace  the  course  by  which  she 
was  led.      We  see  that  the  sense  of  sin  had  tnken  strong  hold 

*  Neque  rex  potentissiine  pudeat  .  .  .  quasi  atrienses  hujus  ajilis  fu- 
turas.  (Bezae  Icoius.) — Disputationibus  eorum  ipse  interfuit.  (Flor. 
Raeiiiuruli,  Hist,  deortu  liaresum.  vii.  p.  2.) 

t  Maiiubourg.  Hist,  du  Calvinisme,  p.  16. 


POETICAL    EFFUSIONS    OF  375 

upon  her,  and  that  she  bewailed  the  levity  with  which  she  had 
once  viewed  the  scandals  of  the  court. 

Is  there  in  the  abyss's  lowest  depth 
A  punishment  that  equals  e'en  the  tenth 
Of  all  my  sin. 

The  corruption  which  she  had  so  long  overlooked,  now 
that  her  eyes  were  opened,  was  seen  in  every  thing  about  her — 

Surely  in  me  there  dwells  that  evil  root 
That  putteth  forth  in  others  branch  and  fruit.* 

But  amid  all  the  horror  she  felt  at  her  own  state  of  heart, 
she  yet  acknowledged  that  a  God  of  Peace  had  manifested  him- 
self to  her  soul — 

Thou,  O  my  God,  hast  in  thy  Grace  come  down 
To  me,  a  worm  of  earth,  who  strength  had  none.t 

And  soon  a  sense  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  was  shed 
abroad  in  her  heart : — 

My  Father,  then, — but  what  a  Father  thou, 
Unseen, — that  changest  not, — endless  of  days, 
Who  graciously  forgivest  all  my  sins. 
J.  Dear  Lord  Emanuel,  behold  me  fall 

Low  at  thy  sacred  feet,  a  criminal ! 

Pity  me,  Father, — perfect  in  Thy  love ! 
Thou  art  the  sacrifice,  and  mercy-seat, 
^  And  Thou  hast  made  for  us  an  offering  meet, 

Well  pleasing  unto  Thee,  oh  God  above.? 

Margaret  had  found  the  faith,  and  her  soul  in  its  joy  gave 
free  expression  to  holy  delight, — 

Oh  Saviour  Jesus — oh  most  holy  Word 

Only  begotten  of  thy  Father  God 

The  First — the  Last — for  whom  all  things  were  made — 

Bishop  and  King,  set  over  all  as  Head, 

*  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princesses  (Lyon  1547).  tome  ler, 
Miroir  de  I'ame  pecheresse,  p.  15.  The  copy  I  have  u^ed  seems  to  have 
belonged  to  the  Glueen  of  Navarre  herself,  and  some  notes  appearing  in 
it  are,  it  is  said,  in  her  handwriting.  It  is  now  in  the  possession  of  a 
friend, 

t  Ibid.  p.  18,  19.  X  Ibid.    Oraison  a  J.  C,  p.  143. 


376  THE    DUCHESS    OF    ALENCON. 

Through  death,  from  fear  of  death  thou  sett'st  us  free! 

Making  us  children  by  our  Faith  in  Thee, 

Righteous  and  pure  and  good  by  faith  to  be.  [ 

Faith  plants  our  souls  in  innocence  again, 

Faith  makes  us  kings  with  Christ  as  kings  to  reign, 

Faith  gives  us  all  things  in  our  Head  to  gain.* 

From  that  time  a  great  change  was  seen  in  the  Duchess  of 
Aleni^on — 

Though  poor,  untaught,  and  weak  I  be, 
Yet  feel  I  rich,  wise,  strong  in  Thee.t 

However,  the  power  of  sin  was  not  yft  subdued — Her  soul 
was  still  conscious  of  a  want  of  blessed  harmony,  and  of  a  de- 
gree of  inward  struggle  that  perpjpxtd  her — 

By  spirit  roble,  yet  by  nature  serf, 
Of  heavenly  seed, — begotten  here  on  earth  ; 
God's  temple, — wherein  things  unclean  find  room; 
Immortal, — and  yet  hastening  to  the  tomb  ; 
Though  fed  by  God, — in  earthly  pastures  roving; 
Shrinking  from  ill, — yet  sinful  pleasures  loving; 
Cherishing  truth — yet  not  to  truth  conformed  ; 
Long  as  my  days  on  earth  prolonged  are, 
Life  can  have  nought  for  me  but  constant  war.J 

Margaret,  seeking  in  nature  symbols  that  might  express  the 
felt  want  and  desire  of  her  soul,  chose  for  her  emblem,  says 
Brantome,  the  marigold,  "  which  in  its  flower  and  leaf  has 
most  resemblance  to  the  sun,  and,  turning,  follows  it  in  its 
course."^  She  added  this  device,  Non  inferiora  secutus — I 
seek  not  things  below — "  signifying,"  continues  the  annalist  of 
the  court,  "  that  her  actions,  thoughts,  purposes,  and  desires. 
were  directed  to  that  exalted  Sun,  namely  God, — whereupon 
it  was  suspected  that  she  had  imbibed  the  religion  of  Luther." |{ 

In  fact,  the  princess  shortly  after  experienced  the  truth  of 
that  word,  "  All  that  loill  live  godly  in  Jesus  ChHst  shall  suffer 
'persecution."     The  new  opinions  of  Margaret  were  the  sub- 

*  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princes.«es  (Lyon  1547),  tome  ler, 
Mir.^ir  de  1  ame  pecheress^.  p.  1.5.     Discord  de  I'Esprit  et  de  la  chair,  p.  73. 
t  Ibid.     Miroir  de  1  ame,  p.  22. 
X  Ibid.     Discord  de  I'Rsprit  et  de  la  chair,  p.  71. 
§  Vies  des  Femms  lUustres.  p.  S3. 
II  Ibid,  p.  33. 


Margaret's  danger.  377 

ject  of  conversation  at  court,  and  gfreat  was  the  sensation  ; — 
What!  could  the  king's  sister  be  one  of  those  people? — For  a 
moment  it  might  have  been  feared  that  Margaret's  disgrace 
was  certain.  But  the  king  who  loved  his  sister,  affected  to 
disregard  the  rumour  of  the  couit.  The  conduct  of  Margaret 
gradually  dissipated  the  opposition  ] — '•  Every  one  loved  her, 
for,"  says  Brantome,  "she  was  very  kind,  gentle,  condescend- 
ing, and  charitable,  very  easy  of  access,  giving  away  much  in 
alms,  overlooking  no  one,  but  winning  all  hearts  by  her  gra- 
cious deportment."* 

In  the  midst  of  the  corruption  and  frivolity  of  that  age,  the 
mind  may  joyfully  contemplate  this  elect  soul,  which  the  grace 
of  God  gathered  from  beneath  all  its  pomps  and  vanities.  But 
her  feminine  character  held  her  back.  If  Francis  the  First 
had  had  the  convictions  of  his  sister,  we  can  hardly  doubt  he 
would  have  followed  them  out.  The  fearful  heart  of  the  prin- 
cess trembled  at  the  thought  of  facing  the  anger  of  her  king. 
She  continued  to  fluctuate  between  her  brother  and  her  Sa- 
viour, unwilling  to  give  up  either  one  or  the  other.  We  do 
not  recognise  in  her  the  Christian  who  has  attained  to  the  per- 
fect liberty  of  God's  children,  but  the  exact  type  of  those  souls 
— at  all  times  so  numerous,  and  especially  among  her  sex, — 
who,  drawn  powerfully  to  look  to  heaven,  have  not  strength 
sufficient  to  disengage  themselves  entirely  from  the  bondage 
of  earth. 

Nevertheless,  such  as  she  is  here  seen,  her  appearance  is  a 
touching  vision  on  the  stage  of  history.  Neither  Germany 
nor  England  presents  such  a  picture  as  Margaret  of  Valois. 
She  is  a  star,  slightly  clouded,  doubtless,  but  shedding  a  pecu- 
liarly soft  light.  And  at  the  period  we  are  contemplating, 
her  light  even  shines  forth  with  much  radiance.  Not  till 
afterwards,  when  the  angry  glance  of  Francis  the  First  de- 
nounces a  mortal  hatred  of  the  Gospel,  will  his  sister  spread  a 
veil  over  her  holy  fiiith.  But  at  this  period  she  is  seen  erec- 
in  the  midst  of  a  degraded  court,  and  moving  in  it  as  the  bride 
of  Jesus  Christ.  The  respect  paid  to  her,  the  high  opmion 
♦  Vies  des  Femmes  Illustres,  p.  341. 
32* 


378  OPPOSITION    TO    THE    GOSPEL. 

entertained  of  her  understanding'  and  character,  pleads,  more 
persuasively  than  any  preacher,  the  cause  of  the  Gospel  at  the 
court  of  France,  and  the  power  of  this  gentle  f.male  influ*  nee 
gains  adnriission  for  the  new  doctrin^s.  Perhaps  it  is  to  this 
period  we  may  trace  the  disposition  of  the  noblesse  to  embrace 
Protestantism.  If  Francis  had  followed  in  the  steps  of  his  sister, 
if  the  entire  nation  had  opened  its  arms  to  Christianity,  the  con- 
version of  Margaret  might  have  been  the  channel  of  salvation 
to  France.  But  whilst  the  nobles  welcomed  the  Gospel,  the 
throne  and  the  people  adhered  faithful  to  Rome, — and  a  day 
came  when  it  was  a  source  of  heavy  misfortune  to  the  Refor- 
mation to  have  numbered  in  its  ranks  the  names  of  Navarre 
and  Conde. 

Thus  already  had  the  Gospel  made  converts  in  France. 
Lefevre,  Bri^onnet,  Farel,  Margaret,  in  Paris,  joyfully  follow- 
ed in  the  direction  of  the  movement.  It  seemed  as  if  Francis 
himself  were  more  attracted  by  the  light  of  learning  than  re- 
pelled by  the  purity  of  the  Gospel.  The  friends  of  God's 
word  encouraged  the  most  hopeful  anticipations,  and  were 
pleasing  themselves  with  the  thought  that  the  heavenly  doc- 
trine would  spread,  unresisted,  through  their  country,  whea 
suddenly  a  powerful  opposition  was  concocted  in  the  Sorbonne, 
and  at  the  court.  France,  which  was  to  signalize  herself 
among  Roman  Catholic  states  by  three  centuries  of  persecution 
of  the  Reformed  opinions,  arcse  against  the  Reformation  with 
pitiless  sternness.  If  the  seventeenth  century  was,  in  France, 
an  age  of  bloody  persecution,  the  sixteenth  was  that  of  cruel 
struggle.  In  no  country,  perhaps,  have  those  who  professed 
the  reformed  faith  met  with  moie  merciless  opposers  on  the 
very  spots  where  they  brought  the  Gospel.  In  Germany  the 
anger  of  the  enemy  came  upon  them  from  other  states,  where 
the  storm  had  been  gathering.  In  Switzerland,  it  fell  upon 
them  from  the  neighbouring  cantons ;  but  in  France  it  every- 
where met  them  face  to  face.  A  dissolute  wonjan  and  a  rapa- 
cious minister  then  took  the  lead  in  the  long  line  of  enemies 
of  the  Reformation. 

Louisa  of  Savoy,  mother  of  the  king  and  of  Margaret,  note- 


THE    CONCORDAT.  379 

rious  for  her  gallantries,  of  overbearing  temper,  and  surrounded 
by  ladies  of  honour,  whose  licentiousness  was  the  b*  ginning 
of  a  long  train  of  immorality  and  infamy  at  the  court  of  France, 
natuially  ranged  herst^lf  on  the  side  of  the  opposers  of  God's 
word.  What  rendered  her  more  formidable  was  the  almost 
unbounded  influence  she  possessed  over  her  son.  But  the 
Gospf'I  tncounter«  d  a  still  more  formidable  enemy  in  Anthony 
Duprat,  Louisa's  favourite,  and,  by  her  influence,  elevated  to 
the  rank  of  chancellor  of  the  kingdom.  This  man,  whom  a 
contemporary  historian  has  designated  as  the  most  vicious  of 
bipeds,*  was  yet  more  noted  for  avarice  than  Louisa  for  her 
dissolute  life.  Having  begun  with  enriching  himself  by  per- 
verting justice,  he  sought  to  add  to  his  wealth  at  the  cost  of 
religion  ;  and  took  orders  with  a  view  to  get  possession  of  the 
richest  b<  nefices. 

Luxury  and  avarice  thus  characterized  these  two  persons, 
who,  being  both  devoted  to  the  Pope,  sought  to  cover  the  in- 
famy of  their  lives  by  the  shedding  the  blood  of  heretics.! 

One  of  their  first  steps  was  to  hand  over  the  kingdom  to 
the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  of  the  Pope.  The  king,  after  the 
battle  of  Marignan,  had  a  meeting  with  Leo  X.  at  Bologna, 
and  in  that  place  was  concluded  the  memorable  Concordat,  in 
virtue  of  which  those  two  princes  divided  between  them  the 
spoils  of  the  Church.  They  annulled  the  supremacy  of 
Councils  to  ascribe  supremacy  to  the  Pope,  and  took  from  the 
respective  churches  the  power  of  nominating  to  bishoprics,  to 
give  that  power  to  the  king.  After  this,  Francis  the  First, 
supporting  the  Pontiff's  train,  repaired  publicly  to  the  cathe- 
dral church  of  Bologna  to  ratify  the  treaty.  Sensible  of  the 
iniquity  of  the  Concordat,  he  turned  to  Duprat,  and  whispered 
in  his  ear, — "  There  is  enough  in  this  to  damn  us  both. "J 
But  what  signified  to  him  salvation, — money  and  the  Pope's 
alliance  was  what  he  sought. 

The  Parliament  met  the  Concordat  with  a  vigorous  resist- 

♦  Bipedum  omnium  nequissimus.     (Belcarius,  xv.  p.  435.) 
t  Sismondi.  Hist,  des  Francais,  xvi.  p,  387. 
%  Mathieu,  i.  p.  16. 


S80  THE    CONCORDAT    RESISTED. 

ance.  The  king",  after  keeping  its  df^puties  waiting  for  sonie 
weeks  at  Annboise,  sent  for  them  one  day  into  his  presence, 
upon  I  isinof  from  table,  and  said  :  "  There  is  a  king  in  France, 
and  I  don't  at  all  understand  that  any  men  ghould  form  a 
sen;.te  after  the  manner  of  Venice."  He  then  ordered  them 
to  depart  before  sunset.  From  such  a  prince,  Gospel  liberty 
had  nothing  to  hope.  Three  days  afterwards,  the  Grand 
Chamberlain  la  Tremonille  appeared  in  Parliament,  and 
directed  that  the  Concordat  should  be  enregistered. 

On  this,  the  University  was  in  motion.  On  the  18th  of 
March,  1518,  a  solemn  procession,  at  which  were  present  the 
whole  body  of  students  and  bachelors  in  their  corps,  repaired 
to  the  church  of  St.  Catherine  of  Scholars,  to  implore  God  to 
preserve  the  liberties  of  the  Church  and  kingdom.*  "The 
halls  of  the  different  colleges  were  closed;  strong  bodies  of 
students  went  armed  through  the  streets,  threatening  and  ill 
some  instances  maltreating  consequential  persons,  engaged 
pursuant  to  the  king's  directions,  in  making  known  the  Con- 
cordtt,  and  carrying  it  into  effect."!  However,  in  the  result, 
the  University  allowed  the  compact  to  be  fulfilled,  but  without 
rescinding  the  resolutions  in  which  their  opposition  to  it  was 
declared ;  and  "  from  that  time,"  says  the  Venetian  ambassador 
Correro,  "the  king  began  to  give  away  bishoprics  at  the 
solicitation  of  the  ladies  of  the  court,  and  to  bestow  abbey  lands 
on  his  soldiers,  so  that  at  the  French  court  bishoprics  and 
abbeys  were  counted  merchandise,  just  as  among  the  Venetians 
they  trade  in  pepper  and  cinnamon. ":J: 

Whilst  Louisa  and  Duprat  were  taking  their  measures  to 
root  up  the  Gospel  by  the  destruction  of  the  Galilean  Church, 
a  powerful  party  of  fanatics  were  gathering  together  against 
the  Bible.  The  truth  of  the  Gospel  has  ever  had  two  great 
adversaries, — the  profligacy  of  the  world,  and  the  fanaticism 
of  the  priests.  The  scholastic  Sorbonne  and  a  shameless 
court,  were  now  about  to  go  forward  hand  in  hand  against  the 
confessors  of  Jesus  Christ.     The  unbelieving  SadduceeSj  and 

*  Crevier,  v.  p.  110. 

t  Fontaine,  Hist.  Cathol.     Paris,  1562,  p.  16. 

X  Raumer.  Gesch.  Europ.  i.  p.  270. 


VIOLENCE    OF    BEDA.  381 

the  hypocritical  Pharisees,  in  the  early  days  of  the  Gospel 
were  the  fiercest  enemies  of  Christianity,  and  they  are  alike 
in  every  age.  At  their  head  stood  Noel  Bedier,  commonly 
callel  Beda,  a  native  of  Picardy,  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  who 
had  the  reputation  of  the  first  blusterer  and  most  factious 
disturber  of  his  time.  Educated  in  the  dry  maxims  of  scho- 
lastic moraiity,  he  had  grown  up  in  the  constant  hearing  of 
the  theses  and  antitheses  of  his  college,  and  had  more  venera- 
tion for  the  hair-breadth  distinctions  of  the  school,  than  for  God's 
word,  so  that  his  anger  was  readily  excited  whenever  any  one 
ventured  to  give  utterance  to  other  thoughts.  Of  a  restless 
disposition,  that  required  continually  to  be  engaged  in  pursuit 
of  new  objects,  he  was  a  torment  to  all  about  him ;  his  very 
element  was  trouble-,  he  seemed  born  for  contention;  and 
when  adversaries  were  not  at  hand,  he  would  fall  upon  his 
friends.  Boastful  and  impetuous,  he  filled  the  city  and  the 
university  with  the  noise  of  his  disputation, — with  his  invec- 
tives against  learning  and  the  innovations  of  that  age, — as  also 
against  those,  who,  in  his  opinion,  did  not  sufficiently  oppose 
them.  Some  laughed,  others  gave  ear  to  the  fierce  talker, 
and  in  the  Sorbonne  his  violence  gave  him  the  mastery.  He 
seemed  to  be  ever  seeking  some  opponent,  or  some  victim  to 
drag  to  the  scaffold — hence,  before  the  "heretics"  began  to 
show  themselves,  his  imagination  had  created  them,  and  he 
had  required  that  the  vicar-general  of  Paris,  Merlin,  should 
be  brought  to  the  stake,  on  the  charge  of  having  dt^fended 
Origen.  But  when  he  caught  sight  of  the  new  teachers,  he 
bounded  like  a  wild  beast  that  suddenly  comes  within  view  of 
its  unsuspecting  prey.  "  There  are  three  thousand  monks  in 
one  Beda,"  remarked  the  wary  Erasmus.* 

Yet  his  violence  injured  the  cause  he  laboured  to  advance. 
"  What !  can  the  Romish  Church  rest  for  her  support  on  such 
an  Atlas  as  that?t  Whence  all  this  commotion  but  from  the 
insane  violence  of  Beda?"  was  the  reflection  of  the  wisest. 

In   truth  the  invectives  that   terrified  the  weak,  revolted 

*  In  uno  Beda  sunt  tria  millia  monachorum.     (Erasmi  Epp.  p.  373.) 
t  Talibus  Atlantibus  nilitur  Ecclesia  romana.     (Ibid.  p.  113. 


S82  LOUIS    BERQUIN. 

nobler  minds.  At  the  court  of  Francis  the  First,  was  a  gen- 
tleman of  Artois,  by  name  Louis  Berquin,  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  who  was  never  married.  The  purity  of  his  life,*  his 
accurate  knowledge,  which  had  won  him  the  appellation  of 
"most  learned  among  the  noble,"t  his  ingenuousness,  com- 
passion for  the  poor,  and  unbounded  attachment  to  his  friends, 
distinguished  him  above  his  equals.^  The  rites  of  the  Church, 
its  fasts,  festivals,  and  masses,  had  not  a  more  devout  observer,^ 
and  he  held  in  especial  horror  everything  heretical.  His 
devotion  was  indeed  the  wonder  of  the  whole  court. 

It  seemed  as  if  nothing  could  have  given  this  man  a  turn 
in  favour  of  the  Reformation  ;  nevertheless,  some  points  of  his 
character  disposed  him  toward  the  Gospel.  He  had  a  horror 
of  all  dissimulation,  and  having  himself  no  ill-will  to  any,  he 
could  not  endure  injustice  in  others.  The  overbearing  vio- 
lence of  Beda  and  other  fanatics,  their  shuffling  and  persecu- 
tions disgusted  his  generous  heart,  and,  as  he  was  accustomed 
in  every  thing  to  go  heartily  to  work,  he,  ere  long,  wherever 
he  came,  in  the  city  and  at  court,  even  in  the  first  circles,  ||  was 
heard  vehemently  protesting  against  the  tyranny  of  those  doc- 
tors, and  pursuing  into  their  very  holes  the  pestilent  hornets 
who  then  kept  the  world  in  fear.^ 

But  this  was  not  all:  for  his  opposition  to  injustice  led  Ber- 
quin to  enquire  after  the  truth.  He  resolved  on  knowing  more 
of  that  Holy  Scripture  so  dear  to  the  men  against  whom 
Beda  and  his  party  were  conspiring; — and  scarcely  had  he 
begun  to  study  it,  than  his  heart  was  won  by  it.  Berquin 
immediately  sought  the  intimacy  of  Margaret,  Briqonnet, 
Lefevre,  and  those  who  loved  the  truth ;  and  in  their  society 

*  Ut  ne  rumusculus  quidem  impudicitise  sit  unquam  in  ilium  exortus. 
(Erasmi  Epp.  p.  1278.) 

t  Gaillard  Hist,  de  Francois  ler. 

J  Mirere  benignus  in  egenos  et  amicos.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  1238.) 

§  Constitutionum  ac  rituum  ecclesiasticorum  observantissimus  .  ,  ,  , 
(Ibid.) 

II  Actes  des  Martyrs  de  Crespin,  p.  103. 

IT  Ut  niaxime  omnium  tunc  metuendos  crabones  in  ipsis  eorum  cavia 
,  ,  .  (Bezgp  Icones.) 


FANATICISM    AND    TIMIDITY.  383 

tasted  of  the  purest  delight.  He  became  sensible  that  lie  had 
something  else  to  do  than  to  stand  up  against  the  Sorbonne,  and 
gladly  would  he  have  communicated  to  all  France  the  new 
convictions  of  his  soul.  With  this  view  he  sat  down  to  com- 
pose and  translate  into  French  certain  christian  writings.  To 
him  it  seemed  as  if  every  one  must  confess  and  embrace  the 
truth  as  promptly  as  he  himself  had  done.  The  impatient 
zeal  that  Beda  brought  to  the  service  of  traditions  of  men, 
Beiquin  employed  in  the  cause  of  God's  truth.  Somewhat 
younger  than  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  less  wary,  less  acute, 
he  had  in  his  favour  the  noble  incentive  of  a  love  of  truth. 
Berquin  had  a  higher  object  than  victory  over  his  antagonist 
when  he  stood  up  against  Beda.  It  was  his  aim  to  let  loose 
the  flood  of  truth  among  his  countrymen.  On  this  account, 
Theodore  Beza  observes,  "that  if  Francis  the  First  had  been 
another  Elector,  Berquin  might  have  come  down  to  us  as  ano- 
ther Luther."* 

Many  were  the  obstacles  in  his  way.  Fanaticism  finds  dis- 
ciples everywhere, — it  is  a  contagious  infection.  The  monks 
and  ignorant  priests  sided  with  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne. 
An  esprit  de  corps  pervaded  their  whole  company,  governed 
by  a  few  intriguing  and  fanatical  leaders,  who  knew  how  to 
work  upon  the  credulity  and  vanity  of  their  colleagues,  and 
by  that  means  communicate  to  them  their  own  animosities. 
At  all  their  m<  etings  these  persons  took  the  lead,  lording  it 
over  others,  and  reducing  to  silence  the  timid  and  moderate  of 
their  body.  Hardly  could  they  propose  any  thing,  wh^n  this 
party  exclaimed,  in  an  overbearing  lone,  "  Now  we  shall  see 
who  are  of  Luther's  faction."!  If  the  latter  offered  any  rea- 
sonable suggestion,  instantly  a  shudder  passed  from  Beda  to 
Lecouturier,  Duchesne,  and  the  rest,  and  all  exclaimed,  '•  Why 
they  are  worse  than  Luther."  The  manceuvre  answered  their 
purpose,  and  the  timid,  who  prefer  quiet  to  disputation,  and  are 
willing  to  give  up  their   own  opinion    for  their  own   ease, — 

*  Gallia  fortassis  altcrum  essft  Luthernm  nacta.     (Bezae  Icones.) 
t  Hie  inquiunt.  apparcbit  qui  sint  Luthorjinae  factionis.     (Er.  Epp.  pt 
889.) 


384  THE    THREE    MARIES. 

those  who  do  not  understand  the  very  simplest  questions, — 
and,  lastly,  such  as  are  easily  turned  round  by  mere  clamour, 
were  led  away  by  Brda  and  his  followers.  Some  silently,  and 
some  assenting  aloud,  submitted  to  the  influence  exercised  over 
ordinary  spirits  by  one  proud  and  tyrannical  mind.  Such  was 
the  state  of  this  association,  regarded  as  venerable,  and  which, 
at  this  time,  was  found  among  the  most  determined  opposers 
of  the  Christianity  of  the  Gospel.  Often  would  one  glance 
within  the  interior  of  such  bodies  suffice  to  enable  us  to  esti- 
mate at  its  true  value  the  war  they  wage  against  tru  h 

Thusthe  University  which,  under  Louis  XII.,  had  applauded 
the  first  inklings  of  independence  in  Ailman,  abruptly  plunged 
once  more,  under  the  guidance  of  Duprat  and  Louisa  of 
Savoy,  into  fanaticism  and  servility.  If  we  except  the  Jan- 
senists,  and  a  few  others,  no  where  in  the  Gallican  clergy  do 
we  find  a  noble  and  genuine  independence.  It  has  done  no 
more  than  vibrate  between  servility  to  the  court,  and  servility 
to  the  Pope.  If.  undrr  Louis  XII.  or  Louis  XIV.,  we  no- 
tice some  faint  semblance  of  liberty,  it  is  because  its  master  in 
Paris  was  at  strife  "jth  its  master  in  Rome.  Herein  we  have 
the  solution  of  the  change  we  have  noticed.  The  Univ^^rsity 
and  the  Bishops  forgot  their  lights  and  obligations,  the  mo- 
ment the  KiniJf  ceased  to  enjoin  the  assertion  of  them ! 

Bi'da  hud  long  ch^-rished  ill-will  against  Lefevre.  The  re- 
nown of  the  doctor  of  Picardy  irritated  and  ruffled  the  pride 
of  his  countryman,  who  would  gladly  have  silenced  him. 
Once  before,  Beda  had  attacked  the  doctor  of  Etaples.  and, 
having  as  yet  but  little  discernment  of  the  true  point  of  the 
evang'lic  doctrines,  he  had  assailed  his  colleague  on  a  point 
which,  strange  as  it  must  to  us  appear,  was  very  near  sending 
Lefevre  to  the  scaffold  *  The  doctor  had  asseit-d  that  Mary 
the  sister  of  Lazarus,  Mary  Magdalen,  and  the  woman  who 
was  a  sinner,  (mentioned  by  Luke  in  his  seventh  chapter.) 
were  three  distinct  persons.  The  Greek  fathers  had  consid- 
ered them  as  distinct,  but  the  fathers  of  the  Latin  Chuich  had 
spoken  of  them  as  one  and  the  same.  This  shocking  heresy, 
*  Gaillard  Hist,  de  Francois  I     iv.  p.  228. 


BEDA    AND    THE    UNIVERSITY.  385 

in  relation  to  the  three  Maries,  set  Beda  and  all  his  clique  in 
motion.  Christendom  itself  was  roused.  Fisher,  bishop  of 
Rochester,  and  one  of  the  most  eminent  prelates  of  the  age, 
wrote  against  Lefevre,  and  the  whole  Church  declared  against 
a  judgment  that  is  now  universally  received  among  Roman 
Catholics  themselves.  Already,  Lefevre,  condemned  by  the 
Sorbonne,  was  prosecute  d  by  the  Parliament  on  the  charge  of 
heresy,  when  Francis  I.,  not  sorry  to  have  an  opportunity  of 
striking  a  blow  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  humbling  the  monks, 
interfered,  and  rescued  him  from  the  hands  of  his  persecutors. 

Beda,  enraged  at  seeing  his  victim  thus  snatched  from  his 
grasp,  resolved  on  taking  his  next  measures  more  cunningly. 
The  name  of  Luther  was  beginning  to  be  noised  in  France. 
The  Reformer,  after  disputing  against  Eck  at  Leipsic,  had 
agreed  to  acknowledge  the  universities  of  Erfuith  and  of  Paris 
as  his  judges.  The  zeal  disphiyed  by  the  University  against 
the  Concordat  doubtless  led  him  to  expect  an  impartial  verdict. 
But  a  change  had  taken  place,  and  the  more  d*  cided  their  op- 
position 10  the  encroachments  of  Rome,  the  more  did  the  mem- 
bers of  the  University  seem  to  have  it  at  heart  to  make  proof 
of  their  orthodoxy.  Beda,  accordingly,  found  them  quite  dis- 
posed to  enter  into  all  his  views. 

On  the  20th  of  January,  1 5*20,  the  questor  of  France  pur- 
chased twenty  copi(  s  of  Luther's  conference  with  Eck,  to  dis- 
tribute them  among  the  members  of  the  commission  charged 
to  make  its  report  on  the  m-rntei'.  More  than  a  year  was  taken 
up  in  the  investigation.  The  German  Reformation  was  be- 
ginning to  produce  a  strong  sensation  in  France.  The  several 
universities,  then  truly  Catholic  institutions,  resorted  to  from 
all  parts  of  Christendom,  maintained  a  more  direct  and  inti- 
mate intercourse,  on  topics  of  theology  and  philosophy,  be- 
tween Germany,  France,  and  England,  than  exists  in  our  own 
day.  The  report,  brought  to  Par  is,  of  Luther's  labours  and 
success,  strengthened  the  hands  of  such  men  as  Lefevre,  Bri- 
connet,  and  Farel.  Some  of  the  divines  of  the  Sorbonne  were 
struck  by  the  truths  they  saw  in  the  writings  of  the  Wittem- 
berg  monk.  Now  and  then  a  bold  confession  was  heard ; 
VOL.  III.  33 


386         THE  KING  AND  THE  SORBONNE. 

but  there  was  also  fierce  opposers.  "  Europe,"  says  Crevier, 
a  was  all  expectation  of  the  decision  of  the  University  of  Paris." 
The  issue  seemed  doubtful, — but  Beda  finally  triumphed.  In 
April,  1521,  the  University  decreed  that  the  writings  of  Lu- 
ther should  be  publicly  committed  to  the  flames,  and  that  the 
author  should  be  compelled  to  retract. 

Further  measures  were  resolved  on.  Luther's  disciples  had 
crossed  the  Rhine,  even  before  his  writings.  Maimbourg  tells 
us  that  the  University  was  quickly  filled  with  foreigners,  who, 
having  obtained  a  reputation  on  the  strength  of  some  know- 
ledge of  Hebrew,  and  more  of  Greek,  crept  into  the  houses 
ef  persons  of  distinction,  and  took  upon  them  the  liberty  of 
explaining  the  Scriptures.*  The  faculty,  therefore,  sent  a  de- 
putation to  the  king  to  call  attention  to  these  disorders. 

Francis  the  First,  caring  little  for  theological  dissensions, 
was  then  pursuing  the  career  of  his  pleasures.  Passing  from 
one  chateau  to  another,  in  con)pany  with  his  gentlemen  and 
the  ladies  of  his  mother's  and  his  sister's  court,  he  indulged  in 
every  species  of  dissolute  excess,  out  of  the  range  of  the  trou- 
blesome observation  of  his  capital.  In  this  way  he  passed 
through  Brittany,  Anjou,  Guienne,  Angoumois,  Poitou,  re- 
quiring, in  villages  and  forests,  the  same  attention  and  luxury 
as  if  he  had  been  in  the  Chateau  des  Tournelles  at  Paris. 
Nothing  was  heard  of  but  tournaments,  single  combats,  mas- 
qu^-rad' s.  shows,  and  fcHStings,  -such,"  says  Brantome,  "that 
Luciillus  hiiiiseir  never  saw  the  like"* 

Suspending  f»)r  a  moment  the  course  of  his  pleasures,  he 
gave  audience  to  the  grave  deputies  of  the  Sorbonne  ;  hut  he 
«aw  on^y  men  of  learning  in  those  whom  the  faculty  desig- 
nated iis  h^-retics;  an  I  should  a  piince.  who  boasts  of  having 
eclipsed  and  put  hors  de  page  th^  kings  of  France,  stoop  to 
humour  a  clique  of  fan;itical  doctors.  '•  1  comm.md  you," 
w;{S  his  answer,  "  n.>t  to  molest  those  people.  To  peisfcute 
those  who  tench  us  would  prevent  able  scholars  from  s^ttiing 
in  our  country.":): 

*  Histoire  du  Calvinisme,  p.  10. 

t  Vie  des  Hommes  lUustres,  i.  p.  326.  t  Maimbourg,  p.  11, 


BRICONNET    IN    HIS    DIOCESE.  387 

The  deputation  quilted  the  royal  presence  in  a  rage.  What 
then  is  to  be  the  consequence  ?  The  danger  is  every  day 
greater,  already  the  heretical  sentiments  are  counted  as  those 
of  the  best  informed  classes, — the  devouring  flame  is  circu- 
lating between  the  rafters, — the  conflagration  will  presently 
burst  forth,  and  the  structure  of  the  established  faith  will  fall, 
with  sudden  crash,  to  the  earth. 

Beda  and  his  party,  failing  to  obtain  the  king's  permission 
to  resort  to  scaffolds,  had  recourse  to  more  quiet  persecution. 
There  was  no  kind  of  annoyance  to  which  the  evangelic 
teachers  were  not  subjected.  Every  day  brought  with  it  new 
rumours  and  new  charges.  The  aged  Lefevre,  Vv-caried  out 
by  these  ignorant  zealots,  panted  for  quiet.  TLe  pious  Bri- 
^onnet,  who  was  unremitting  in  his  attentions  to  the  Doctor  of 
Etaples,*  offered  him  an  asylum.  Lefevre,  therefore,  took 
leave  of  Paris,  and  repaired  to  Meaux.  It  was  a  first  advan- 
tage gained  by  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel,  and  thenceforth  it 
was  seen  that  if  the  party  cannot  enlist  the  civil  power  on  its 
side,  it  has  ever  a  secret  and  fanatical  police,  which  it  knows 
how  to  use,  so  as  to  ensure  the  attainment  of  its  ends. 

Thus  Paris  was  beginning  to  rise  against  the  Reformation, 
and  to  trace,  as  it  were,  the  first  lines  of  that  enclosure  which, 
for  three  centuries,  was  to  bar  the  entrance  of  the  Reforjua- 
tion.  God  had  appointed  that  in  Paris  itself  its  first  glimmer- 
ing should  appear ;  but  men  arose  who  hastily  extinguished 
it ; — the  spirit  of  the  sixteen  chiefs  was  already  working,  and 
other  cities  in  the  kingdom  were  about  to  receive  that  light 
which  the  capital  itself  rejected. 

Bri<jonnet,  on  returning  to  his  diocese,  there  manifested  the 
zeal  of  a  Christian  and  of  a  bishop.  He  visited  all  the  par- 
ishes, and  having  called  together  the  deans,  curates,  vicars, 
church- wardens,  and  principal  parishioners,  he  made  enqui- 
ries respecting  the  teaching  and  manner  of  life  of  the  preach- 
ers. "  At  the  time  of  the  gathering,"  they  replied,  "  the  Fran- 
ciscans of  Meaux  sally  forth  ;  a  single  preacher  goes  over 

*  Pro  innumeris  beneficiis,  pro  tantis  ad  studia  commodis.  (Epist. 
dedicatoria  Epp.  Pauli.) 


388  THE    BISHOP    AND    THE    CURATES. 

four  or  five  parishes  in  one  day  ;  repeating  as  many  limes  the 
same  sermon,  not  to  feed  the  souls  of  his  hearers,  but  to  fit! 
his  belly,  and  enrich  his  convent.*  The  scrip  once  replen- 
ished, the  object  is  answered  ;  the  preaching  is  at  an  end,  and 
the  monks  are  not  seen  again  in  the  churches  until  begging 
time  comes  round  again.  The  only  thing  these  shepherds 
attend  to  is  the  shearing  of  their  flocks."! 

The  majority  of  the  curates  lived  upon  their  incomes  at 
Paris.  "  Oh  !"  exclaimed  the  pious  bishop,  on  finding  the 
presbytery  he  had  come  to  visit  deserted,  "  must  we  not  re- 
gard those  who  thus  forsake  the  service  of  Christ.J  traitors  to 
him  ?"  Bri(^onnet  resolved  to  apply  a  remedy  to  these  evils, 
and  convoked  a  synod  of  all  his  clergy  for  the  13th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1519.  But  these  worldly  priests,  who  gave  but  little  heed 
to  the  remonstrances  of  their  bishop,  and  for  whom  Paris  pos- 
sessed so  many  attractions,  took  advantage  of  a  custom,  by 
virtue  of  which  they  were  allowed  to  substitute  one  or  more 
vicars  to  look  aff""  their  flocks  in  their  absence.  Out  of  a 
hundred  and  tweniy-seven  vicars,  Briqonnet  upon  examina- 
tion, found  only  fourteen  whom  he  could  approve, 
I  Earthly-minded  curates,  imbecile  vicars,  monks  whose  God 
was  their  belly,  such,  then,  was  the  state  of  the  church.  Bri- 
^onnet  forbade  the  pulpit  to  the  Franciscans,^  and,  being  per- 
suaded that  the  only  method  of  supplying  able  ministers  in 
his  diocese,  was  himself  to  train  them,  he  determined  to  found 
a  school  of  theology  at  Meaux,  under  the  superintendence  of 
pious  and  learned  doctors.  It  became  necessary  to  look  around 
for  such  persons.     Beda,  however,  supplied  hirn  with  them. 

This  fanatic  and  his  troop  continued  their  efforts,  and  com- 
plaining bitterly  against  the  government  for  toleratmg  the  new 

*  Eo  solum  doceri  quae  ad  ccenobium  illorum  ac  ventrem  explendum 
pertinerent.     (Acta  Mart  p.  334.) 

t  MS.  de  Meaux.  I  am  indebted  to  M.  Ladeveze,  pastor  of  Meaux, 
for  the  communication  of  a  copy  of  this  MS.  preserved  in  that  city. 

t  MS.  de  Meaux. 

§  Eis  in  universa  diocesi  sua  praedicationem  interdixit.  (Act  Mart. 
p.  334.) 


MARTIAL    MAZURIER.  389 

teachers,  declared  they  would  wage  war  against  their  doc- 
trines without,  and  even  against  its  orders.  Lefevre  had  in- 
deed quitted  the  capital,  but  were  not  Farel  and  his  friends  still 
there.  Farel,  it  is  true,  did  not  preach,  for  he  was  not  in 
priest's  oideis;  but  in  the  university,  in  the  city,  with  profes- 
sors, priests,  students,  and  citizens,  he  boldly  maintained  the 
cause  of  the  R  form.ition  Others,  emboldened  by  his  exam- 
ple, circulated  more  freely  the  woid  of  God.  Martial  Mazu- 
rier,  president  of  St.  Michael's  college,  and  distinguished  as  a 
preacher,  unsparingly  depicted  the  disorders  of  the  time,  in 
the  darkest  and  yet  the  truest  colours,  and  it  seemed  scarce 
possible  to  withstand  the  force  of  his  eloquence.*  The  rage 
ofBeda,  and  those  divines  who  acted  with  him,  was  at  its 
height.  "  If  we  suffer  these  innovators,"  said  Beda,  "  they 
will  spread  through  our  whole  company,  and  there  will  be  an 
end  of  our  teaching  and  tradition,  as  well  as  of  our  places,  and 
the  respect  France  and  all  Christendom  have  hitherto  paid 
us." 

The  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  were  the  stronger  party. 
Farel,  Mazurier,  Gerard  Roussel,  and  his  brother  Arnaud, 
soon  found  their  active  service  every  where  counteracted. 
The  Bishop  of  Meaux  pressed  his  friends  to  rejoin  Lefevre, — 
and  these  worthy  men,  persecuted  and  hunted  by  the  Sor- 
bonne, and  hoping  to  form  with  Briqonnet  a  sacred  phalanx 
for  the  triumph  of  truth,  accepted  the  bishop's  invitation,  and 
repaired  to  Meaux  f  Thus,  the  light  of  the  Gospel  was  grad- 
ually withdrawn  from  the  capital  where  Providence  had  kin- 
dled its  first  sparks.  "  Tkis  is  the  condemnation  that  light  is 
come  into  the  worlds  and  men  love  darkness  rather  than  lighty 
because  their  deeds  are  eviV^  It  is  impossible  not  to  dis- 
cern that  Paris  then  drew  down  upon  it  that  judgment  of  God 
which  is  here  conveyed  in  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ. 

*  Frequentissimas  de  reformanrlis  hominum  moribus  condones  habuit. 
(Lannoi,  Navarrae  jrymnasii  Hist.  p.  261.) 

t  It  was  the  persecution  which  arose  against  them  in  Paris,  in  1521, 
which  compelled  them  to  leave  that  city.     (Vie  de  Farel,  par  Chaupard.) 

?  St.  John  iii.  19. 

33* 


390 

Margaret  of  Valois,  successively  deprived  of  Bric^oimet; 
Lefevre,  and  their  friends,  found  herself  alone  in  the  centre  of 
Paris,  and  of  the  dissolute  cou it  of  Francis  I,  A  young  prin- 
cess, sister  to  her  mother,  Piiilibert  of  Savoy,  lived  on  inti- 
macy with  her.  Philibert,  whom  the  king  of  France  had 
given  in  marriage  to  Julian  the  Magnificent,  brother  of  Leo  X,, 
in  confirmation  of  the  Concordat,  had,  after  her  nuptials,  re- 
jKiired  to  Rome,  where  the  Pope,  delighted  with  so  illustrious 
an  alliance,  had  expended  no  less  than  150,000  ducats  in  fes- 
tive entertainments  on  the  occasion.*  In  1516,  Julian,  who 
then  commanded  the  Papal  forces,  died,  leaving  his  widovsr 
only  eighteen.  She  attached  herself  to  Margaret,  being  at- 
tracted by  the  influence  which  the  character  and  virtues  of 
that  princess  gave  her  over  all  about  her.  The  grief  of  Phij- 
ibert  unclosed  her  heart  to  the  voice  of  religion.  Margaret 
imparted  to  her  the  fruit  of  her  reading,  and  the  widow  of  the 
lieutenant-general  of  the  Church  began  to  taste  the  sweetness 
of  the  saving  truth.  But  Philibert  had  as  yet  too  little  expe- 
rience to  be  a  support  to  her  friend,  and  often  did  Margaret 
tremble  at  the  thought  of  her  own  extreme  weakness.  If  the 
love  she  bore  her  king,  and  her  fear  of  offending  him,  led  her 
to  any  action  contrary  to  her  conscience,  instantly  her  sou-l 
was  troubled,  and,  turning  in  sorrow  to  the  Lord,  she  found 
in  him  a  master  and  brother  more  gracious  and  sweet  to  her 
heart  than  Francis  himself  It  was  in  such  a  season  she 
breathed  forth  those  feelings  : — 

Sweet  Brother,  who,  in  place  of  chastenings  meet, 

Lead'st  gently  home  thy  wandering  sister's  feet, 

Giving  thy  Grace  and  Love  in  recompense 

Of  murmurings,  presumption,  and  offence. 

Too  much,  my  Brother, — too  much  hast  thou  done : 

The  blessing  is  too  vast  for  such  an  one.t 

When  she  saw  all  her  friends  retiring  to  Meaux,  Margaret 
turned  after  them  a  look  of  sorrow  from  the  midst  of  the  fes- 

♦  Guichemon.  Hist.  gen.  de  Savoie,  ii.  p.  180. 

t  Miroir  de  IUme  pecheresse.    Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite,  &C;  i. 
?.36. 


STRENGTH    UNDER    TRIAL.  '  ^1 

tlvitles  of  the  court.  She  seemed  dej^erted  of  all, — her  hus- 
band the  Duke  of  Alenqon  was  setting  out  for  the  army, — her 
young  aunt  Philibert  was  returning  to  Savoy.  The  Duchess 
wrote  to  Bri^onnet,  as  follows  : — 

"Monsieur  de  Meaux, — Knowing  that  God  is  all-sufficient, 
I  apply  to  you  to  ask  your  prayeis  that  He  will  conduct  in 
safety,  according  to  His  holy  will,  M.  d'Alen^on,  who  is  about 
to  take  his  departure,  by  order  of  the  king,  as  lieutenant-gen- 
eral of  his  army,  which  I  apprehend  will  not  break  up  with- 
out a  war ;  and,  thinking  that,  besides  the  public  good  of  the 
kingdom,  you  have  an  interest  in  all  that  concerns  his  and 
my  salvation,  I  request  your  spiritual  aid.  To-morrow,  my 
aunt  leaves  Nemours  for  Savoy.  I  must  be  mixed  up  with 
many  things  which  I  dread.  Therefore,  if  you  should  know 
that  master  Michael  could  make  a  journey  hither,  it  would  be 
a  comfort  to  me,  which  I  desire  only  for  the  honour  of  God."'" 

Michael  Arand,  whose  counsel  Margaret  desired,  was  one 
of  the  members  of  the  evangelic. assembly  at  Meaux,  who,  at 
a  later  period,  exposed  himself  to  many  dangers  in  preaching 
the  Gospel. 

The  pious  princess  trembled  to  see  an  opposition  gathering 
strength  against  the  truth.  Duprat  and  the  retainers  of  the 
government,  Beda  and  those  who  adhered  to  the  University, 
inspired  her  with  terror.  Briconnet  wrote  cheeringly — "  It 
is  the  war  which  the  gentle  Jesus  said  he  was  come  to  send 
upon  earth, — the  fire,  the  fierce  fire  which  transforms  earth- 
liness  into  that  which  is  heavenly.  With  all  my  heart  do  I 
desire  to  help  you.  Madam  ;  but  do  not  expect  from  my  weak- 
ness any  more  than  the  will  to  serve  you.  Whoever  has  faith, 
hope,  love,  has  all  that  is  necessary,  and  needcth  not  any  other 
help  or  protection.  God  will  be  all, — and  out  of  Him  we  can 
hope  for  nothing.  Take  with  you  into  the  conflict  that  mighty 
giant,  unconquerable  Love.  The  w-ar  is  led  on  by  Love. 
Jesus  requires  to  have  our  hearts  in  his  presence :  woe  befals 

♦  Lettres  de  Marguerite,  reine  de  Navarre.    (Bibl.  Royale  Manu- 
script, S.F.  337.     1521.) 


S92       DEATH  OF  PHILEBERT  OF  NEMOURS. 

the  Christian  who  parts  compMny  from  Him.  He  who  is 
present  in  person  in  the  battle  is  sure  of  victory;  but  if  the 
battle  is  fought  out  of  His  own  presence,  he  will  often  lose 
ground."* 

The  Bishop  of  M^^aux  was  then  beginning  to  experience 
what  it  is  to  contend  for  the  word  of  God.  The  theologians 
and  monks,  irritated  by  the  sljelter  he  had  afforded  to  the 
friends  of  the  Reformation,  vehemently  accused  him,  so  that 
his  brother,  the  Bishop  of  St.  Malo,  came  to  Paris  to  enquire 
into  the  charges  brought  against  him.f  Hence  Margaret 
was  the  more  touched  by  the  comfortings  which  Bri^onnet 
addressed  to  her ;  and  she  answered  by  offering  him  her  as- 
sistance. 

"  If  in  any  thing,"  wrote  she,  "  you  think  that  I  can  be  of 
service  to  you  or  youi's,  be  assured  that  I  shall  find  comfort 
in  doing  all  I  can.  Evei  lasting  Peace  be  given  to  you  after 
the  long  struggles  you  have  waged  for  the  faith — in  the  which 
cause  pray  that  you  may  live  and  die. 

"Your  devoted  daughter,  Margaret."J 

Happy  would  it  have  been  if  Bri^onnet  had  died  while  con- 
tending for  the  truth.  Yet  was  he  still  full  of  zeal.  Philibert 
of  Nemours,  universally  respected  for  her  piety,  charity,  and 
blameless  life,  read  with  increasing  interest  the  evangelical 
writings  sent  her  from  time  to  time  by  the  Bishop  of  Meaux, 
"  I  have  received  all  the  tracts  you  forwarded,  wrote  Margaret 
to  Bri(^onnet,  "  of  which  my  aunt  of  Nemours  has  taken  some, 
and  I  mean  to  send  her  the  last,  for  she  is  now  in  Savoy, 
called  thither  by  her  brother's  marriage.  Her  absence  is  no 
small  loss  to  me; — think  of  my  loneliness  in  your  prayers." 
Unhappily,  Philibert  did  not  live  to  declare  herself  openly  in 
favour  of  the  Reformation.  She  died,  in  1524,  at  the  castle 
of  Virieu  le  Grand  in  Bugey,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six.^    Mar- 

*  Lettres  de  Marguerite,  reine  de  Navarre.     (Bibl.  Royale  Manu- 
script, S.F.  337.     12th  June,  1521.) 
+  MS.  de  Meaux. 
X  MS.  S.F.  227,  de  la  Bibl.  royale. 
§  Guichemon.  Hist,  de  la  maison  de  Savoie,  ii.  p.  181. 


ALONE NOT    LONELY.  393 

garet  was  deeply  sensible  of  the  loss  of  one  who  was  to  her  a 
friend — a  sister;  one  who  could,  indeed,  enter  into  her  thoughts. 
Perhaps  no  loss  by  death  was  the  occasion  of  more  sorrow  to 
her,  if  we  except  that  of  her  brother. 

Alas  !  nor  earth  nor  heaven  above  appears 
To  my  sad  eyes,  so  ceaseless  are  the  tears 
That  from  them  flowr.* 

Margaret,  feeling  her  own  weakness  to  bear  up  under  her 
grief,  and  against  the  seductions  of  the  court,  applied  to  Bri- 
^onnet  to  exhort  her  to  the  love  of  God : — "  The  gentle  and 
gracious  Jesus,  who  wills,  and  who  alone  is  able  to  work  that 
which  he  wills,  in  his  infinite  mercy,  visit  your  heart,  and 
lead  it  to  love  him  with  an  undivided  love.  None  but  He, 
Madam,  hath  power  to  do  this,  and  we  must  not  seek  light 
from  darkness,  nor  warmth  from  cold.  When  he  draws,  he 
kindles,  and  by  the  warmth  draws  us  after  him,  enlarging  our 
hearts.  You  write  to  me  to  pity  you  because  you  are  alone; 
I  do  not  understand  that  word.  The  heart  that  is  in  the 
world,  and  resting  in  it,  is  indeed  lonely, — for  many  and  evil 
are  they  who  compass  it  about.  But  she  whose  heart  is 
closed  against  the  world  and  awake  to  the  gentle  and  graci- 
ous Jesus,  her  true  and  faithful  spouse,  is  really  alone,  living 
on  supplies  from  One  who  is  all  to  her, — and  yet  not  alone, 
because  never  1<  ft  by  Him  who  replenishes  and  preserves  all. 
I  cannot  and  ought  not  to  pity  such  solitude  as  this,  which  is 
more  to  be  prized  than  the  whole  world  around  us,  from 
which  I  am  confident  that  God  hath  in  his  love  delivered 
you,  so  that  you  are  no  longer  its  child.  Continue,  Madam, 
— alone, — -abiding  in  Him  who  is  your  all,  and  who  humbled 
himself  to  a  painful  and  ignominious  death. 

"  In  commending  myself  to  your  favour,  I  humbly  entreat 
you  not  to  use  the  words  of  your  last  letters.  You  are  the 
daughter  and  the  spouse  of  God  only.  No  other  father  hath 
any  claim  upon  you.  I  exhort  and  admonish  you  to  be  to 
Him  such  and  so  good  daughter  as  He  is  to  you  a  Father j 

♦  Chanson  spirituelle  aprSs  la  mort  du  Roi.     (Marguerites,  i.  p.  473.) 


394  THE    WANDERING    SHEEP. 

and  since  you  cannot  attain  to  this,  by  reason  that  finite  cannot 
compare  with  infinite,  I  pray  Him  to  strengthen  you,  that 
you  may  love  and  serve  Him  with  all  your  heart."* 

Notwithstanding  these  counsels,  Margaret  was  not  yet 
comforted.  She  grieved  over  the  loss  of  those  spiritual  guides 
who  had  been  removed  from  her.  The  new  pastors  set  over 
her  to  reclaim  her,  did  not  possess  her  confidence;  and  not- 
withstanding what  the  bishop  had  said,  she  felt  alone  amidst 
the  court,  and  all  around  her  seemed  like  a  desolate  wilder- 
ness. She  wrote  to  Bri^onnet  as  follows: — "  As  a  sheep  wan- 
dering in  a  strange  land,  and  turning  from  her  pasture  in  dis- 
trust of  her  new  shepherds,  naturally  lifts  her  head  to  catch 
the  breeze  from  that  quarter  of  the  field  where  the  chief  shep- 
herd once  led  her  to  the  tender  grass,  just  so  am  I  constrained 
to  implore  your  love.  Come  down  from  your  mountain,  and 
look  in  pity  on  the  blindest  of  all  your  fold,  astray  among  a 
people  living  in  darkness. 

(Signed)  '  Marguerite. "f 

The  Bishop  of  Meaux,  in  his  reply,  taking  up  the  compar- 
ison of  a  wandering  sheep,  under  which  Margaret  had  pic- 
tured herself,  uses  it  to  depict  the  mysteries  of  Salvation  under 
the  figure  of  a  wood.  "The  sheep,"  says  he,  "on  entering 
this  wood  under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  at  once 
charmed  by  the  goodness,  beauty,  height,  length,  breadth, 
depth,  and  refreshing  odours  of  the  forest,  and  looking  round 
about,  sees  only  Him  in  all,  and  all  in  Him  ;  and  hastening 
onward  through  its  gretn  alleys,  finds  it  so  sweet,  that  the 
way  becomes  life,  joy,  and  consolation. ''|  The  bishop  then 
describes  the  sheep  trying  in  vain  to  pen-trate  to  the  bounds 
of  the  forest  (as  a  soul  would  fithom  the  deep  things  of  God,) 
meeting  with  mountains  which  it  in  vain  endeavours  to 
ascend,  being  stopped  on  all  sides  by  "inaccessible  heights." 
He  then  shows  the  way  by  which  the  soul,  inquiring  after 
God,  surmounts  the  difficulties,  and  how  the  sheep  among  all 

♦  MSC,  S.F.  337,  de  la  Bibl.  royale,  lOth  July. 
t  Ibid.  t  Ibid. 


briconnet's  hope  and  prayer.  395 

the  hirelings,  finds  out  "the  Chief  Shepherd's  nook,"  and 
"enters  on  the  wing  of  meditation  by  faith  ;"  then  all  is  made 
plain  and  easy,  and  she  begins  to  sing,  "  I  have  found  him 
whom  my  soul  loveth." 

Thus  wrote  the  Bishop  of  Meaux.  In  the  fervour  of  his 
zeal  he  would  at  this  time  have  rejoiced  to  see  France  regen- 
erated by  the  Gospel.*  Often  would  he  dwell  especially  on 
those  three  individuals  who  seemed  called  to  preside  over  the 
destinies  of  his  country  ;  namely,  the  king,  his  mother,  and 
his  sister.  He  thought  that  if  the  royal  family  were  but 
enlightened,  the  whole  nation  would  be  so;  and  that  the 
clergy,  aroused  to  emulation,  would  awake  from  their  death- 
like stupor.  "Madam,"  wrote  he  to  Margaret,  "I  humbly 
pray  God  that  He  will  please,  in  His  goodness,  to  kindle  a 
fire  in  the  hearts  of  the  king,  his  mother,  and  yourself,  so  that 
from  you  three  a  flame  may  go  forth  through  the  nation,  and 
reanimate  especially  that  class,  which,  by  its  coldness,  chills 
all  the  others." 

Margaret  did  not  share  in  these  hopes.  She  says  nothing 
of  her  mother,  nor  yet  of  her  brother.  These  were  themes 
she  did  not  dare  to  touch ;  but  in  her  answer  to  the  bishop,  m 
January,  1522,  oppn  ssed  at  heart  by  the  indifference  and 
worldiiness  all  around  her,  she  said, — "  The  times  are  so  cold, 
the  heart  so  frozen  up;"  and  she  signed  herself — "Your  cold- 
hearted,  hungeiing  and  thirsting  daughter,        "  Margaret." 

This  letter  did  not  discourage  Briqc^nnet,  but  it  put  him 
upon  reflection;  and  feeling  how  much  he  who  sought  to 
reani:iiate  others  required  to  be  reanimated  himself,  he  ask*  d 
the  prayers  of  Margaret  and  of  Madame  de  Nemours. 
"  Madam,  said  he,  with  perfect  simplicity,  "  I  pray  you  to 
re-awaken  by  your  prayers  the  poor  drowsy  one."t 

And  such,  in  1521,  were  the  expressions  interchang<d  at 
the  court  of  France.  Strange  words,  doubtless ;  and  which 
now,  after  a  lapse  of  above  three  centuries,  a  manuscript  in  the 

*  Studio  veritatis  aliis  declarandae  inflatDrnatus.  (Act.  Martyrum,  p. 
334.) 

t  MSC.  de  la  Bibl.  royale. 


396  SUFFICIENCY    OF    THE    SCRIPTURES. 

Royal  Library  reveals  to  us.  Was  this  influence  in  high 
places  favourable  to  the  Reformation,  or  adverse  to  it  ?  The 
spur  of  truth  was  felt  indeed  at  the  court,  but  perhaps  did  but 
arouse  the  slumbering  beast, — exciting  him  to  rage, — and 
causing  him  to  dart  more  furiously  on  the  weak  ones  of  the  flock. 
In  truth  the  time  was  drawingf  nig^h  when  the  storm  was  to 
burst  upon  the  Reformation;  but  first  it  was  destined  to  scatter 
some  seeds  and  gather  in  some  sheaves.  This  city  of  Meaux 
which  a  cpntury  and  a  half  later  was  to  be  honoured  by  the 
residence  of  the  noble  defender  of  the  Gallican  church  against 
the  claims  of  Rome,  was  called  to  be  the  first  town  in  France 
wherein  regenerate'd  Christianity  should  establish  its  hold.  It 
was  at  this  time  the  field  on  which  the  labourers  profusely 
scattered  their  seed,  and  into  which  they  had  already  put  the 
sickle.  Briqonnf't,  less  given  to  slumber  than  he  had  said, 
cheered,  watched,  and  directed  every  thing.  His  fortune  was 
equal  to  his  z^^al.  Never  did  anyone  make  a  more  noble  use 
of  his  means — and  never  did  so  noble  a  devotion  promise  at 
first  to  yinlJ  such  abundant  fruit.  Assembled  at  Mtaux,  the 
pious  teachers  look  their  measures  thenceforward  with  more 
liberty.  The  word  of  God  was  not  bound  ;  and  the  Reforma- 
tion mride  a  orreat  advance  in  France.  Lefevre,  with  unwonted 
energy,  proclaime-d  that  Gospt-l  with  which  he  would  ghuUy 
have  filled  the  world — "  Kings,  princes,  nobles,  the  people, 
and  all  nations,"  he  exclaimed,  "ought  to  think  and  aspire 
only  after  Jesus  Christ.*  Every  pri^st  should  resemble  that 
RngA  seen  by  John  in  the  Apocalypse,  flying  through  the 
air,  having  in  his  hand  the  everlasting  Gospel,  to  preach  to 
every  nation,  and  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people.  Draw 
near,  ye  pontiffs,  kings,  and  generous  hearts.  Awake,  ye 
nations,  to  the  liyht  of  the  Gospel,  and  receive  the  breath  of 
eternal  life.f     Sufficient  is  the  word  of  God!"| 

*  Reges,  principes,  magnates  omnes  rt  subinde  omnium  niitlonum 
populi,  ut  nihil  aliud  cogitent  .  .  .  ac  Christum  .  .  ,  (Fabri  Comment. 
in  Evang.  prgefat.) 

t  Ubivis  gentium  expergiscimini  ad  Evangelii  lucem  .  .  .  (Ibid.) 

t  Verbum  Dei  sufficit.     (Ibid.) 


397 

Such,  in  truth,  was  the  motto  of  the  new  school :  sufficient 
is  the  loord  of  God.  The  whole  Reformation  is  embodied  in 
that  truth.  "  To  know  Christ  and  his  word,"  said  Lefevre, 
Roussel,  Fare],  "is  the  only  true,  living,  and  universal 
Theology.     He  who  knows  that,  knows  everything."* 

The  truth  produced  a  deep  impression  at  Meaux.  At  first 
private  meetings  took  place,  then  conferences,  and  lastly  the 
Gospel  was  proclaimed  in  the  churches.  But  a  yet  more 
formidable  blow  was  struck  against  the  authority  of  Rome. 

Lefevre  resolved  to  put  it  in  the  power  of  the  Christians  of 
France  to  read  the  Scriptures.  On  the  30th  of  October  he 
published  the  French  translation  of  the  four  Gospels ;  on  the 
Gth  of  November  the  remaining  books  of  the  New  Testament ; 
and  on  the  12th  of  November,  1524,  the  whole  of  these  col- 
lected in  one  volume  at  Meaux;  and  in  1525  a  French  ver- 
sion of  the  Psalms,  t  Thus  in  France,  and  almost  at  the  same 
time  as  in  German^r^  we  have  the  commencement  of  that  pub- 
lication of  the  Scriptures,  in  the  vernacular  tongue,  which, 
after  a  lapse  of  three  centuries,  was  to  receive  such  wonderful 
development.  In  France,  as  in  the  countries,  beyond  the 
Rhine,  the  Bible  produced  a  decided  effect.  Many  there  were 
who  had  learned  by  experience  that  when  they  sought  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things,  darkness  and  doubt  encompassed 
them  on  all  sides.  How  many  were  the  passing  moments, — ■ 
perhaps  even  years, — in  which  they  had  been  tempted  to  re- 
gard the  most  certain  truths  as  mere  illusions.  We  want  a 
ray  from  heaven  to  enligliten  our  darkness.  Such  was  the 
longing  desire  of  many  souls  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation. 
With  feelings  of  this  sort  many  received  the  Scriptures  from 
the  hands  of  Lefevre.  They  read  them  in  their  families  and 
in  private.  The  Bible  became  increasingly  the  subject  of  con- 
versation. Christ  appeared  to  these  souls,  so  long  misled,  as 
the  sun  and  centre  of  all  discovery.     No  longer  did  they  want 

*  Haec  est  universa  et  sola  vivifica  Theologia  .  .  .  Christum  et  ver- 
bum  ejus  esse  omnia.     (Ibid,  in  Ev.  Johan.  p.  271.) 
t  Le  Long.  Biblioth.  sacree,  2  edit.  p.  42. 

VOL.  in.  34 


398  THE    PEOPLE    "turned    ASIDE.." 

evidence  that  Scripture  was  of  the  Lord  :  they  knew  it,  for  it 
had  delivered  them  from  darkness  into  light. 

Such  was  the  course  by  which  some  remarkable  persons  in 
France  were  at  this  time  brought  to  know  God.  But  there 
were  yet  humbler  and  more  ordinary  steps  by  which  many  of 
the  poorer  sort  arrived  at  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  The 
city  of  Meaux  was  almost  entirely  peopled  with  artizans  and 
dealers  in  woollen  cloth.  "  Many,"  says  a  chronicler  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  '•  were  taken  with  so  ardent  a  desire  to 
know  the  way  of  salvation,  that  artisans,  carders,  fullers,  and 
combers,  while  at  work  with  their  hands,  had  their  thoughts 
engaged  in  conversation  on  the  word  of  God,  and  getting  com- 
fort from  thence.  On  Sunday  and  on  festivals,  especially^ 
they  employed  themselves  in  reading  the  Scriptures  and  in- 
quiring into  the  good  pleasure  of  the  Lord."* 

Bri^onnet  rejoiced  to  see  true  piety  take  the  place  of  super- 
stition in  his  diocese.  "  Lefevre,  availing  himself  of  his  great 
reputation  for  learning,"  observes  a  contemporary  historian,! 
"  managed  so  to  cajole  and  impose  upon  Messire  Guillaume 
Briqonnet  by  his  specious  words,  that  he  turned  him  aside  into 
gross  error,  so  that  it  has  been  found  impossible  to  cleanse  the 
town  and  diocese  of  Meaux  from  that  wicked  doctrine  from 
that  time  to  this,  when  it  has  marvellously  spread  abroad. 
The  subverting  of  that  good  bishop  was  a  sad  event,  for  he 
had.  before  that,  been  very  devout  in  his  service  to  God  and 
the  Virgin  Mary."  However,  not  all  hud  been  so  grossly 
<  turned  aside,'  to  adopt  the  expression  of  the  Franciscan.  The 
townspeople  were  divided  in  two  parties.  On  one  side  were 
the  Franciscan  monks,  and  the  partisans  of  Romanism  :  on 
th-  other,  Bri^onnet,  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  those  who  loved  the 
new  preaching.  A  man  of  low  station,  named  Lecleic  was 
ot)'-  of  the  most  servile  adherents  of  the  monks;  but  his  wife 
and  his  two  sons,  Peter  and  John,  had  joyfully  received  the 
Gospel ;  and  John,  who  was  by  trade  a  wool-carder,  soon  at- 

*  Act  desMart.  p.  182. 

t  Hist.  Cathol.   de  notre  temps,  par  Fontaine,  de  I'ordre  de  Saint 
Francois.     Paris,  1562. 


CHURCH    OF    LANDOUZY.  399 

tracted  notice  among-  the  infant  congregations.  James  Pa- 
vanne,  a  native  of  Picardy,  a  young-  man  of  open  and  upright 
character  evinced  an  ardent  zeal  for  the  Reformed  opinions. 
Meaux  was  become  a  focus  of  light.  Persons  called  thither 
by  business,  and  who  there  heard  the  Gospel,  returning,  bore  it 
with  them  to  their  respective  homes.  It  was  not  merely  in 
the  city  that  the  Scripture  was  the  subject  of  inquiry  ;  "  many 
of  the  adjacent  villages  were  awakened,"  says  a  chronicler, 
"  so  that  in  that  diocese  seemed  to  shine  forth  a  sort  of  image 
of  the  regenerated  church." 

The  environs  of  Meaux  were,  in  autumn,  clothed  with  rich 
harvests,  and  a  crowd  of  labouring  people  resorted  thither  from 
the  surrounding  countries.  Resting  themselves,  in  the  heat  of 
the  day,  they  would  talk  with  the  people  of  those  parts  of  a 
seed-time  and  harvest  of  another  kind.  Certain  peasantry, 
who  had  come  from  Thierachia,  and  more  particularly  from 
Landouzy,  after  their  return  home  continued  in  the  doctrine 
they  had  heard,  and,  ere  long^  an  evangelic  church  was  formed 
in  this  latter  place,* — a  church  which  is  among  the  most  an- 
cient in  the  kingdom.  "  The  report  of  this  unspeakable  bless- 
ing spread  through  France,  says  the  chronicler.!  Bric^ormet 
himself  preached  the  Gospel  from  the  pulpit,  and  laboured  to 
diffuse,  far  and  wide,  that  "  free,  gracious,  true,  and  clear  light, 
■which  dazzles  and  illuminates  every  creature  capable  of  re- 
ceiving it ;  and,  while  it  enlightens  him,  raises  him  by  adop- 
tion to  the  dignity  of  a  child  of  God."^  He  besought  his 
hearers  not  to  listen  to  those  who  would  turn  them  aside  from 
the  Word.  "  Though  an  angel  from  heaven,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  should  preach  any  other  Gospel,  do  not  give  ear  to  him." 
At  times  melancholy  thoughts  presented  themselves  to  his 
mind.  He  did  not  feel  confident  in  his  own  stedfastness,  and 
he  recoiled  from  the  thought  of  the  fatal  consequences  that 

*  These  facts  are  derived  from  old  and  much  damaged  papers  discov- 
ered in  the  church  of  Laudouzy-la-Ville  (Aisne),  by  M.  Colany,  dur- 
ing the  time  he  filled  the  office  of  pastor  in  that  town, 

t  Actes  des  Mart.  p.  182. 

t  MS,  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.F.  No.  337, 


400      THE  GOSPEL  AT  THE  FRENCH  COURT. 

might  result  from  any  f;iilure  of  faith  on  his  part.  Forewarn- 
ing his  hearers,  he  ivould  say,  "  Though  I,  your  bishopj 
should  change  my  voice  and  doctrine,  take  heed  that  you 
change  not  with  me."*  At  that  moment  nothing  foreboded 
such  a  calamity.  "  Not  only,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  the  word 
of  God  was  preached,  but  it  was  practised :  all  kinds  of  works 
of  charity  and  love  were  visible ;  the  morals  of  the  city  were 
reformed,  and  its  superstitions  disappeared."! 

Still  indulging  in  the  thought  of  gaining  over  the  king  and 
his  mother,  the  bishop  sent  to  Margaret  a  translation  of  St. 
Paul's  Epistles,  richly  illuminated,  humbly  soliciting  her  to 
present  it  to  the  king,  "  which,  coming  through  your  hands," 
added  he,  cannot  fail  to  be  acceptable.  They  make  a  truly 
royal  dish,"  continued  the  worthy  bishop,  "  of  a  fatness  that 
never  corrupts,  and  having  a  power  to  restore  from  all  manner 
of  sickness.  The  more  we  taste  them  the  more  we  hunger 
after  them,  with  desires  that  are  ever  fed  and  never  cloyed."{ 

What  dearer  commission  could  Margaret  receive  .  .  .  .  ? 
The  moment  seemed  auspicious.  Michel  d'Arande  was  at 
Paris,  detained  there  by  command  of  the  king's  mother,  for 
whom  he  was  translating  portions  of  the  Scriptures.^  But 
Margaret  would  have  preferred  thatBriqonnet  should  himself 
present  St.  Paul  to  her  brother :  "  You  would  do  well  to  come," 
wrote  she,  "  for  you  know  the  confidence  the  king  and  his 
mother  have  in  you."|| 

Thus  at  this  time  (in  1522  and  1523)  was  God's  word 
placed  before  the  eyes  of  Francis  the  First  and  Louisa  of 
Savoy.  They  were  thus  brought  in  contact  with  that  Gospel 
of  which  they  were  afterwards  to  be  the  persecutors.  We  see 
nothing  to  indicate  that  that  Word  made  on  them  any  saving 
impression  ;  curiosity  led  them  to  unclose  that  Bible  which  was 

*  Hist.  Cathol.  de  Fontaine. 
+  Actes  des  Mart.  p.  182. 
t  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.F.  No.  337. 

§  Par  le  commandemenf  de  Madame  a  quy  il  a  lyvre  quelque  chose  de 
la  saincte  Escripture  qu'elle  desire  parfaire.     (Ibid,) 
II  Ibid. 


401 

the  subject  of  so  much  discussion ;  but  they  soon   closed   it 
again  as  they  had  opened  it. 

Margaret  herself  with  difficulty  struggled  against  the 
worldliness  which  surrounded  her.  Her  tender  regard  for 
her  brother,  respect  for  her  mother,  the  flattery  of  the  court, 
all  conspired  against  the  love  she  had  vowed  to  Jesus  Christ. 
Many  indeed  were  her  temptations.  At  times,  the  soul  of 
Margaret,  assailed  by  so  many  enemies,  and  dizzy  with  the 
lumuit  of  life,  turned  aside  from  her  Lord.  Then  becoming 
conscious  of  her  sin,  the  princess  shut  herself  in  her  apart- 
ments, and  gave  vent  to  her  grief  in  sounds  very  different  from 
those  with  which  Francis  and  the  young  lords  who  were  the 
companions  of  his  pleasures,  filled  the  royal  palaces  in  their 
carousings : — 

I  have  forsaken  thee,  for  pleasure  erring ; 
In  place  of  thee,  my  evil  choice  preferring; 
And  from  thee  wandering,  whither  am  I  cornel 
Among  the  cursed, — to  the  place  of  doom. 
I  have  forsaken  thee,  oh  Friend  sincere ; 
And  from  thy  love,  the  better  to  get  free, 
Have  clung  to  things  most  contrary  to  thee.* 

After  this,  Margaret,  turning  in  the  direction  of  Meaux, 
wrote,  in  her  distress, — "  I  again  turn  toward  you,  Mons. 
*  Fabry,'  and  your  companions,  desiring  you  in  your  prayers 
to  entreat  of  the  unspeakable  mercy  an  alarum  that  shall  rouse 
the  unwatchful  weak  one  from  her  heavy  and  deathlike  slum- 
bers."! 

The  friends  of  the  Reformation  were  beginning  to  indulge 
in  cheering  anticipations.  Who  would  be  able  to  resist  the 
Gospel  if  the  authority  of  Francis  the  First  should  open  the 
way  for  it.  The  corrupting  influence  of  the  court  would  be 
succeeded  by  a  sanctifying  example,  and  France  would  ac- 
quire a  moral  power  which  would  constitute  her  the  bene- 
factress of  nations. 

But  the  Romish  party  on  their  side  had  caught  the  alarm. 

♦  Les  Marguerites,  i.  p.  40. 
t  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.  F.  No.  337. 
34* 


402        BRICONNET    PREACHES    AGAINST    THE    MONKS. 

One  of  their  party  at  Meaux,  was  a  Jacobin  monk,  of^  the 
name  of  Roma.  One  day,  when  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  their 
friends  were  in  conversation  with  him,  and  certain  other  par- 
tisans of  the  Papacy,  Lefevre  incautiously  gave  utterance  to 
his  hopes:  "Already,"  said  he,  "the  Gospel  is  winning  the 
hearts  of  the  nobles  and  the  common  people,  and  ere  long  we 
shall  see  it  spreading  throughout  France,  and  casting  down 
the  inventions  that  men  have  set  up."  The  aged  doctor  was 
warmed  by  his  theme,  his  eyes  sparkled,  and  his  feeble  voice 
seemed  to  put  forth  new  power,  resembling  the  aged  Simeon 
giving  thanks  to  the  Lord  because  his  eyes  had  seen  His  sal- 
vation. Lefevre's  friends  partook  of  his  emotion ;  the  op- 
posers  were  amazed  and  silent  ....  Suddenly  Roma  rose 
from  his  seat,  exclaiming,  "  Then  I  and  all  the  monks  will 
preach  a  crusade — we  will  raise  the  people,  and  if  the  king 
suffers  the  preaching  of  your  Gospel,  we  will  expel  him  from 
his  kingdom  by  his  own  subjects."*  Thus  did  a  monk  ven- 
ture to  stand  up  against  the  knightly  monarch.  The  Francis- 
cans applauded  his  boldness.  It  was  necessary  to  prevent  the 
fulfilment  of  the  aged  doctor's  predictions.  Already  the  men- 
dicant friars  found  their  daily  gatherings  fill  off  The  Fran- 
ciscans in  alarm  distributed  themselves  in  private  families. 
"  Those  new  teachers  are  heretics."  said  they,  "  they  call  in 
question  the  holiest  practices,  and  deny  the  most  sacred  mji^s- 
teries."  Then,  growing  bolder,  the  more  violent  of  the  party, 
sallying  forth  from  their  cloister,  presented  themselves  at  the 
bishop's  residence,  and  being  admitted, — "  Make  haste,"  said 
they,  "to  crush  this  heresy,  or  the  pestilence  which  now 
afflicts  Meaux  will  ext-^^nd  its  ravages  through  the  kingdom." 

Bri^onnet  was  roused,  aud  for  a  moment  disturbed  b}^  this 
invasion  of  his  privacy  ;  but  he  did  not  ghe  way.  Despising 
the  interested  clamour  of  a  set  of  ignorant  monks,  he  ascend- 
ed the  pulpit  and  preached  in  vindication  of  Lefevre,  desig>- 
nating  the  monks  as  pharisees  and  hypocrites.  Still  this  op- 
position from  without  had  already  awakened  anxiety  and  con- 
flict in  his  soul.  He  tried  to  quiet  his  fears  by  persuading 
himself  that  it  was  necessary  to  pass  through  such  spiritual 

*  Farel.  Epitre  au  Due  de  Lorraine.     Gen,  1634. 


TWO    DESPOTISMS.  403 

Struggles.  "  By  such  conflict,"  said  he,  in  expressions  that 
sound  mystical  to  our  ears,  "  we  are  brought  to  a  death  that 
ushers  into  life,  and,  while  ever  mortifying  life, — living  we 
die,  and  dying,  live."*  The  way  had  been  more  sure,  if, 
turning  to  the  Saviour,  as  the  apostles,  when  "driven  by  the 
winds  and  tossed,"  he  had  cried  out,—"  Lord  !  save  us,  or  we 
perish." 

The  monks  of  Meaux,  enraged  at  this  repulse,  resolved  to 
carry  their  complaint  before  a  higher  tribunal.  An  appeal 
lay  open  to  them  ;  and  if  the  bishop  should  be  contumacious, 
he  may  be  reduced  to  compliance.  Their  leaders  set  forth  for 
Paris,  and  concerted  measures  with  Beda  and  Duchesne. 
They  presented  themselves  before  the  Parliament,  and  lodged 
information  against  the  bishop  and  the  heretical  teachers. 
"  The  town,"  said  they,  "  and  all  the  neighbouring  country,  is 
infected  with  heresy,  and  the  muddy  waters  go  forth  from  the 
bishop's  palace." 

Thus  France  began  to  hear  the  cry  of  persecution  raised 
against  the  Gospel.  The  priestly  and  the  civil  power, — the 
Sorbonne  and  the  Parliament  laid  their  hands  upon  the  sword, 
and  that  sword  was  destined  to  be  stained  with  blood.  Chris- 
tianity had  taught  men  that  there  are  duties  anterior  to  all 
civil  relationships ;  it  had  emnncipated  the  religious  mind, 
laid  the  foundations  of  liberty  of  conscience,  and  wrought  an 
important  change  in  society ; — for  Antiquity,  everywhere  re- 
cognizing the  citizen  and  nowhere  the  man,  had  made  of  re- 
ligion a  matter  of  mere  state  regulation.  But  scarcely  had 
these  ideas  of  liberty  been  given  to  the  world  when  the  Pa- 
pacy corrupted  them.  In  place  of  the  despotism  of  the  prince, 
it  substituted  that  of  the  priest.  Often,  indeed,  had  both  prince 
and  priest  been  by  it  stirred  up  against  the  Christian  people. 
A  new  emancipation  was  needed :  the  sixteenth  century  pro- 
duced it.  Wherever  the  Reformation  established  itself,  the 
yoke  of  Rome  was  thrown  off,  and  liberty  of  conscience  re- 
stored.    Yet  is  there  such  a  proneness  in  man  to  exalt  him- 

+  MS.  in  the  Royal  Library,  S.F.  No.  337. 


404  BRICONNET    DRAWS    BACK. 

self  above  the  truth,  that  even  among  many  Protestant  nations 
of  our  own  time,  the  Church,  freed  from  the  arbitrary  power 
of  the  priest,  is  near  falling  again  into  subserviency  to  the 
civil  authority ;  thus,  like  its  divine  Founder,  bandied  from 
one  despotism  to  another  ;  still  passing  from  Caiaphas  to  Pi- 
late, and  from  Pilate  to  Caiaphas  ! 

Bri^onnet,  who  enjoyed  a  high  reputation  at  Paris,  easily 
cleared  himself  But  in  vain  did  he  seek  to  defend  his  friends ; 
the  monks  were  resolved  not  to  return  to  Meaux  empty 
handed.  If  the  bishop  would  escape,  he  must  sacrifice  his 
brethren.  Of  a  character  naturally  timid,  and  but  little  pre- 
pared  for  '  Christ's  sake'  to  give  up  his  possessions  and  stand- 
ing,— alarmed,  agitated,  and  desponding,  he  was  still  further 
misled  by  treacherous  advisers :  "  If  the  evangelical  divines 
should  leave  Meaux,"  said  some,  "they  will  carry  the  Refor- 
mation elsewhere."  His  heart  was  torn  by  a  painful  struggle. 
At  length  the  wisdom  of  this  world  prevailed  :  on  the  1 2th 
of  April,  1523,  he  published  an  ordonnance  by  which  he  de- 
prived those  pious  teachers  of  their  licence  to  preach.  This 
was  the  first  step  in  Bri^onnet's  downward  career. 

Lefevre  was  the  chief  object  of  enmity.  His  commentary 
ou  the  four  Gospels,  and  especially  the  epistle  "to  Christian 
readers,"  which  he  had  prefixed  to  it,  inflamed  the  wrath  of 
Beda  and  his  fellows.  They  denounced  the  work  to  the 
faculty — "  Has  he  not  ventured,"  said  the  fiery  syndic, '* to 
recommend  to  all  the  faithful  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures 1  Does  he  not  affirm  that  whosoever  loves  not  the  word 
of  Christ  is  no  Christian  ;*  and  again,  that  the  word  of  God 
is  sufficient  of  itself  to  lead  us  to  eternal  life?" 

But  Francis  I.  saw  nothing  more  in  this  accusation  than  a 
theological  squabble.  He  appointed  a  commission,  before 
which  Lefevre  successfully  defended  himself,  and  was  honour- 
ably acquitted. 

Farel,  who  had  fewer  protectors  at  court,  found  himself 
obliged  to  quit  Meaux.     It  appears  that  he  at  first  repaired  to 

*  Q,ui  verbum  ejus  hoc  modo  non  diligunt,  quo  pacto  hi  Christiani 
essent.     (Praef.  Comm.  in  Evang.) 


LECLERC    THE    WOOL-COMBER.  405 

Paris,*  and  that  having  there  unsparingly  assailed  the  errors 
of  Rome,  he  again  found  himself  obliged  to  remove,  and  left 
that  city,  retiring  to  Dauphiny,  whither  he  was  desirous  of 
carrying  the  Gospel. 

To  have  intimidated  Lefevre,  and  caused  Briqonnet  to  draw 
back,  and  Farel  to  seek  refuge  in  flight,  was  a  victory  gained, 
so  that  the  Sorbonne  already  believed  they  had  mastered  the 
movement.  Monks  and  doctors  exchanged  congratulations  ; 
but  enough  was  not  done  in  their  opinion, — blood  had  not 
flowed.  They  went,  therefore,  again  to  their  work,  and  blood, 
since  they  were  bent  on  shedding  it,  was  now  <o  slake  the 
thirst  of  Roman  fanaticism. 

The  evangelical  Christians  of  Meaux,  seeing  their  pastors 
dispersed,  sought  to  edify  one  another.  A  wool-carder,  John 
Leclerc,  who  had  imbibed  the  true  christian  doctrine  from  the 
instructions  of  the  divines,  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  and  some 
tracts,!  distinguished  himself  by  his  zeal  and  his  expounding 
of  the  Scripture.  He  was  one  of  those  men  whom  the  Spirit 
of  God  inspires  with  courage, J  and  places  in  the  foremost 
rank  of  a  religious  movement.  The  Church  of  Meaux  soon 
came  to  regard  him  as  its  minister. 

The  idea  of  one  universal  priesthood,  known  in  such  living 
power  to  the  first  Christians  had  been  revived  by  Luther^^  in 
the  sixteenth  century.  But  this  idea  seems  then  to  have  dwelt 
only  in  theory  in  the  Lutheran  Church,  and  was  really  acted 
out  only  among  the  congregations  of  the  Reformed  Churches. 
The  Lutheran  congregations  (agreeing  in  this  point  with  the 
Anglican  Church)  took,  it  seems,  a  middle  course  between 
the  Romish  and  the  Reformed  Churches.  Among  the  Lu- 
therans, everything  proceeded  from  the  pastor  or  priest ;  and 
nothing  was  counted  valid  in  the  Church  but  what  was  regu- 
larly conveyed  through  its  rulers.  But  the  Reformed  Churches, 

*  "  Farel,  apres  avoir  subsiste  tant  qu'il  put  a  Paris."  (Bezse  Hist. 
Eccles.  i.  6.) 

+  Aliis  pauculis  libellis  diligenter  lectis.     (Bezae  Icones.) 
t  Animosae  fidei  plenus.     (Ibid.) 
I  Vide  vol.  ii.  pp.  81,  88. 


406        LECLERC'S  ZEAL  AND  SUFFERINGS.  \ 

while  they  maintained  the  divine  appointment  of  the  ministry, 
— ^by  some  sects  denied, — approached  nearer  to  the  primitive 
condition  of  the  apostolical  communities.  From  this  time  for- 
ward, they  recognized  and  proclaimed  that  the  flock  are  not 
to  rest  satisfied  with  receiving-  what  the  priest  gives  out ;  that, 
since  the  Bible  is  in  the  hands  of  every  one,  the  members  of 
the  Church,  as  well  as  those  who  take  the  lead,  possess  the 
key  of  that  treasury  whence  the  latter  derive  their  instructions  ; 
that  the  gifts  of  God,  the  spirit  of  faith,  of  wisdom,  of  consola- 
tion, and  of  knowledge  are  not  imparted  to  the  minister  alone  ; 
but  that  each  is  called  upon  to  employ  for  the  good  of  all 
whatever  gift  he  has  received  :  and  that  it  may  often  happen 
that  some  gift  needful  for  the  edification  of  the  Church  may 
be  denied  to  the  pastor,  and  granted  to  some  member  of  his 
flock.  Thus  the  mere  passive  state  of  the  Churches  was 
changed  into  one  of  general  activity ;  and  it  was  in  France 
especially  that  this  transformation  took  place.  In  other  coun- 
tries, the  Reformers  are  found  almost  exclusively  among  the 
ministers  and  doctors  ;  but  in  France,  the  men  who  had  read 
or  studied  had  for  fellow-labourers  men  of  the  lowest  class. 
Among  God's  chosen  servants  in  that  country  we  have  a 
doctor  of  the  Sorbonne  and  a  wool-comber. 

Leclerc  began  to  visit  from  house  to  house,  strengthening 
and  confirming  the  disciples  in  their  faith.  But  not  resting 
satisfied  with  these  ordinary  labours,  he  longed  to  see  the 
papal  edifice  overthrown,  and  Fiance  coming  forward  to 
embrace  the  Gospel.  His  ungovernable  zeal  was  such  as  to 
remind  an  observer  of  Hottinger  at  Zurich,  and  Carlstadt  at 
Wittemberg.  Rewrote  a  proclamation  against  the  Antichrist 
of  Rome,  in  which  he  announced  that  the  Lord  was  about  to 
consume  that  wicked  one  with  the  spirit  of  his  mouth,  and 
proceeded  boldly  to  post  his  placard  at  the  very  door  of  the 
cathedral.*  Soon  all  was  confusion  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
the  ancient  edifice.      The  faithful  were  amazed,  the  priests 

*  Cet  heretique  ecrivit  des  pancartes  qu'il  attacha  aux  portes  de  la 
grande  eglise  de  Meaux  (MS  de  Meaux.)  See  also  Bez»  Icones^  Cte&. 
pin,  Actes  des  Martyrs,  &c. 


A  mother's  faith  and  love.  407 

enraged.  What!  shall  a  base  wool-comher  be  allowed  to 
assail  the  Pope?  The  Franciscans  were  furious.  They 
insisted  that  at  least  on  this  occasion  a  terrible  example  should 
be  made, — Leclerc  was  thrown  into  prison. 

His  trial  took  place  in  the  presence  of  Bri(;onnet  himself, 
who  was  now  to  witness  and  endure  all  that  was  done.  The 
wool-comber  was  condemned  to  be  publicly  whipped  through 
the  city,  three  successive  days,  and  on  the  third  day  to  be 
branded  on  the  forehead.  The  mournful  spectacle  began. 
Leclerc  was  led  through  the  streets,  his  hands  bound,  his  back 
bare,  and  receiving  from  the  executioners  the  blows  he  had 
drawn  upon  himself  by  his  opposition  to  the  bishop  of  Rome. 
A  great  crowd  followed  the  martyr's  progress,  which  was 
marked  by  his  blood:  some  pursued  the  heretic  with  yells: 
others,  by  their  silence,  gave  no  doubtful  signs  of  sympathy 
with  him  ;  and  one  woman  encouraged  the  martyr  by  her 
looks  and  words — she  was  his  mother. 

At  length,  on  the  third  day,  when  the  bloody  procession 
was  over,  Leclerc  was  made  to  stop  at  the  usual  place  of  exe- 
cution. The  executioner  prepared  to  fire,  heated  the  iron 
which  was  to  sear  the  flesh  of  the  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and 
approaching  him  branded  him  as  a  heretic  on  his  forehead. 
Just  then  a  shriek  was  uttered — but  it  came  not  from  the 
martyr.  His  mother,  a  witness  of  the  dreadful  sight,  wrung 
with  anguish,  endured  a  violent  struggle  between  the  enthu- 
siasm of  faith  and  maternal  feelings ;  but  her  faith  overcame, 
and  she  exclaimed  in  a  voice  that  made  the  adversaries  trem- 
ble, '•  Glory  be  to  Jesus  Christ  and  his  witnesses."*  Tfius 
did  this  Frenchwoman  of  the  16th  century  have  respect  to 
that  word  of  the  Son  of  God. — "  Whosoever  loveth  his  son 
more  than  me  is  not  worthy  of  me."  So  daring  a  courage  at 
such  a  moment  might  have  seemed  to  d^'mand  instant  punish- 
ment:  but  that  Christian  mother  had  struck  powerless  the 
hearts  of  priests  and  soldiers  Th^ir  furv  was  restrained  by 
a  mightier  arm   than  theirs.      The  crowd   falling  back  and 

*  Hist.  Eccles.  de  Th.  de  Bezse,  p.  4.  Hist,  des  Martyrs  de  Crespin, 
p.  92. 


408  SECRET    MEETINGS    FOR    WORSHIP. 

making  way  for  her,  allowed  the  mother  to  reg-ain,  with 
faltering  step,  her  humble  dwelling.  Monks,  and  even  the 
town  Serjeants  themselves,  gazed  on  her  without  moving; 
"not  one  of  her  enemies,"  says  Theodore  Beza,  "dared  put 
forth  his  hand  against  her."  After  this  punishment,  Leclerc, 
being  Srt  at  liberty,  withdrew,  first  to  Rosay  en  Brie,  a  town, 
six  leagues  from  Meaux,  and  subsequently  to  Metz,  where  we 
shall  again  meet  with  him. 

The  enemy  was  triumphant.  '*  The  Cordeliers  having 
regained  possession  of  the  pulpit,  propagated  their  accustomed 
falsehoods  and  absurdities."*  But  the  poor  working-people 
of  Meaux,  no  longer  permitted  to  hear  the  word  of  God  in 
regular  assemblies,  began  to  hold  their  meetings  in  private, 
"imitating,"  says  the  chronicler,  "the  sons  of  the  prophets  in 
the  days  of  Ahab,  and  the  Christians  of  the  early  church; 
assembling,  as  opportunity  offered,  at  one  time  in  a  house,  at 
another  in  a  cavern,  and  at  times  in  a  vineyard  or  a  wood. 
On  such  occasions,  he  among  them  who  was  most  conversant 
with  the  Holy  Scriptures,  exhorted  the  rest ;  and  this  being 
done,  they  all  prayed  together  with  much  fervency,  cheered 
by  the  hope  that  the  Gospel  would  be  received  in  France, and 
the  tyranny  of  Antichrist  be  at  an  end."t  Where  is  the 
power  can  arrest  the  progress  of  truth? 

One  victim,  however,  did  not  satisfy  the  persecutors;  and 
if  the  first  against  whom  their  anger  was  let  loose  was  but  a 
wool-comber,  the  second  was  a  gentleman  of  the  court.  It 
was  become  necessary  to  overawe  the  nobles  as  well  as  the 
people.  The  Sorbonne  of  Paris  was  unwilling  to  be  outstrip- 
ped by  the  Franciscans  of  Meaux.  Berquin,  "the  most 
learned  among  the  nobles,"  continuing  to  gather  more  confi- 
dence from  the  Scriptures,  had  composed  certain  epigrams 
against  the  "drones  of  the  Sorbonne;"  and  had  afterwards 
gone  so  far  as  to  charge  them  with  impiety.;}! 

B^'da  and  Duchesne,  who  had  not  ventured  any  reply  in 
their  usual  style  to  the  witticisms  of  a  gentleman  of  the  court, 

*  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  183.  t  Ibid. 

i  Impietatis  etiam  accusatos,  turn  voce,  turn  scriptis.     (Bezae  Icones.) 


SEIZURE    01P    BERQUIN's    BOOKS.  409 

adopted  a  different  line  of  conduct  when  they  discerned  that 
serious  convictions  were  at  the  bottom  of  these  attacks.  Ber- 
quin  had  become  a  Christian ;  his  ruin  was  therefore  decided 
on.  Beda  and  Duchesne  having  seized  some  of  his  transla- 
tions, found  in  them  sufficient  to  bring  more  than  one  heretic 
to  the  stake:  *'  He  asserts."  they  exclaimed,  "  that  it  is  wrong 
to  invoke  tne  Virgin  Mary  in  place  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
to  call  her  the  source  of  oil  grace!*  He  declares  himself 
against  the  custom  of  speaking  of  her  as  cur  hope  and  our  life^ 
and  says  that  these  titles  belong  only  to  the  Son  of  God." 
There  were  other  charges  against  Berquin  ; — his  closet  was 
as  it  were  a  library,  whence  the  supposed  tainted  works  were 
diffused  through  the  kingdom.  Above  all,  Melancthon's 
Loci  Commu?ies  served  to  stagger  the  more  learned.  The 
man  of  piety,  entrenched  amid  his  folios  and  tracts,  had,  in 
his  christian  love,  made  himself  translator,  corrector,  printer, 

and    bookseller It  seemed  indispensable  to  stop  the 

stream  at  its  source. 

Accordingly,  one  day,  while  Berquin  was  quietly  engaged 
in  his  studies,  the  house  was  of  a  sudden  surrounded  by  armed 
men,  demanding  admittance.  The  Sorbonne  and  its  agents, 
armed  with  authority  from  the  Parliament,  were  at  his  door. 
Beda,  the  dreaded  syndic,  was  at  their  head,  and  never  did 
inquisitor  more  perfectly  perform  his  function.  Followed  by 
his  satellites,  he  made  his  way  to  Berquin's  study,  communi- 
cated the  object  of  his  mission,  and  desiring  his  followers  to 
keep  an  eye  upon  him,  commenced  his  search.  Not  a  volume 
escaped  his  notice,  and  an  exact  inventory  was  made  under 
his  direction.  Here  lay  a  treatise  by  Melancthon;  there  a 
pamphlet  by  Carlstadt;  farther  on  a  work  of  Luther's  ; — here 
'heretical'  books  which  Berquin  had  translated  from  Latin 
into  French ;  there — others  of  his  own  composition.  With 
two  exceptions,  all  the  books  seized  abounded  with  Lutheran 
doctrine,  and  Beda  quitted  the  house,  carrying  away  his  booty, 

*  Incongrue  beatam  Virginem  invocari  pro  Spiritu  Sancto.  (Erasmi 
Epp.  1279.) 

VOL.  III.  35 


410  BERQUIN    IMPRISONED    BY    THE    PARLIAMENT. 

and  more  elated  than  a  general  laden  with  the  spoil  of  con- 
quered nations.* 

Berquin  perceived  that  a  violent  storm  had  burst  upon  his 
head,  but  his  courage  did  not  falter: — he  had  too  much  con- 
tempt for  his  adversaries  to  fear  them.  Meanwhile,  Beda  lost 
no  time.  On  the  31st  May,  1523,  the  Parliament  decreed  that 
all  the  books  seized  at  Berquin's  house  should  be  laid  before 
the  faculty  of  theology.  Its  decision  was  soon  made  known, 
and  on  the  25th  of  June,  it  condemned  all  the  works,  except 
the  two  already  mentioned,  to  be  burnt  as  heretical;  and  en- 
joined that  Berquin  should  be  required  to  abjure  his  errors. 
The  Parliament  ratified  the  decision.  Berquin  appeared  at 
the  bar  of  this  formidable  body :  he  knew  that  the  next  step 
beyond  it  might  be  to  the  scaffold ;  but,  like  Luther  at  Worms, 
he  stood  firm.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  Parliament  insisted  on 
his  retracting :  he  was  not  of  those  who  fall  away  after  being 
made  partakers  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  that  is  begotten  of 
God  keepetk  himself,  and  that  wicked  one  touched  him  not.i 
Every  such  fall  proves  that  conversion  has  either  been  only 
apparent,  or  else  partial  ;|  now  Berquin's  was  a  real  conver- 
sion. He  answered  the  court  before  which  he  stood  with  de- 
cision ;  and  the  Parliament,  using  more  severity  than  the  Diet 
of  Worms,  directed  its  officers  to  take  the  accused  into  custody, 
and  lead  him  away  to  prison.  This  took  place  on  the  1st  of 
August,  1523.  On  the  5th,  the  Parliament  handed  over  the 
heretic  to  the  Bishop  of  Paris,  in  order  that  that  prelate  might 
take  cognizance  of  the  affair,  and  jointly  with  the  doctors  and 
counsellors,  pass  sentence  on  the  culprit.  Berquin  was  forth- 
with transferred  to  the  official  prison. § 

Beda,  Duchesne,  and  their  companions  had  their  victim  in 
their  clutches  ;  but  the  court  bore  no  favour  to  the  Sorbonne, 

*  Gaillard  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  iv.  241.  Crevier,  Univ.  de  Paris,  v.  p, 
171. 

t  Hebrews  vi.  4.     1  John  v.  18. 

t  This  is  believed  to  be  a  faithful  rendering  of  the  original.  The  in- 
terpretation and  the  application  may  be  open  to  question. — (7>.) 

§  Ductus  est  in  carcerem,  reus  hsereseos  periclitatus.  (Erasmi  Epp. 
1279.     Crevier,  Gaillard,  loc.  cit.) 


LIBERATED    BY    THE    KING.  411 

and  Francis  was  more  powerful  than  Beda.  A  feeling  of  in- 
dignation spread  among  the  nobles:  what  do  these  monks  and 
priests  mean,  not  to  respect  the  rank  of  a  gentleman  ?  What 
charge  do  they  bring  against  him  ? — was  the  question  asked 
in  the  presence  of  Francis.  Is  it  that  he  blames  the  practice 
of  invoking  the  Virgin  instead  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ?  But  Eras- 
mus and  many  more  have  censured  it.  Is  it  on  such  frivolous 
charges  they  go  the  length  of  imprisoning  an  officer  of  the 
king?*  This  attack  of  theirs  is  a  blow  struck  against  know- 
ledge and  true  religion  ;  an  insult  to  nobles,  knights,  and 
royalty  itself  The  king  decided  on  again  making  the  Sor- 
bonne  feel  the  weight  of  his  authority.  He  issued  letters  sum- 
moning the  parties  in  the  cause  before  his  council,  and  on  the 
8th  of  August  a  messenger  presented  himself  at  the  official 
prison,  bearing  a  royal  mandate  enjoining  that  Berquin  should 
be  at  liberty. 

It  seemed  at  first  doubtful  whether  the  monks  would  yield 
compliance.  Francis  had  anticipated  some  difficulty,  and,  in 
charging  the  messenger  with  the  execution  of  his  orders,  had 
added,  "  If  you  meet  w^ith  any  resistance,  I  authorize  you  to 
break  open  the  doors."  There  was  no  misunderstanding  these 
words.  The  monks  and  the  Sorbonne  submitted  to  the  affront 
put  upon  them  ;  and  Berquin,  released  from  durance,  appeared 
before  the  king's  council,  and  was  there  acquitted.f 

Thus  did  Francis  I.  humble  the  ecclesiastical  power.  Under 
his  reign  Berquin  fondly  hoped  that  France  might  free  her- 
self from  the  Papal  yoke;  and  he  began  to  meditate  a  renewal 
of  hostilities.  With  this  intent,  he  opened  communications 
with  Erasmus,  who  at  once  acknowledged  his  right  intentions.! 
But  the  philosopher,  ever  timid  and  temporizing,  replied, — 
"  Remember  to  avoid  irritating  the  drones ;  and  pursue  your 


*  Ob  hujusmodi  nosnias.     (Erasm.  Epp.  1279.) 

t  At  judices,  ubi  viderunt  causam  esse  nullius  momenti,  absolverunt 
liouiinem.     (Ibid.) 
J  Ex  epi.'Jtola  visus  est  mihi  vir  bonus.     (Ibid.) 


412 

studies  in  peace.*     Above  all,  do  not  implicate  me  in  jouT 
affairs,  for  that  will  be  of  no  service  to  either  of  us."t 

Berquin  was  not  discouraged.  If  the  great  genius  of  the 
age  draws  back,  he  will  put  his  trust  in  God  who  never  de- 
serts His  work.  God's  work  will  be  effected, — either  by 
humble  instrumentality,  or  without  it.  Erasmus  himself  ac- 
knowledged that  Berquin,  like  the  palm  tree,  rose  in  renewed 
vigour  from  every  new  gust  of  persecution  that  assailed 
him.J 

Not  such  were  all  who  had  embraced  the  Evangelical  doc- 
trines. Martial  Mazurier  had  been  one  of  the  most  zealous 
of  preachers.  He  was  accused  of  having  advocated  very 
erroneous  opinions  ;§  and  even  of  having  committed,  while  at 
Meaux,  certain  acts  of  violence.  "  This  Martial  Mazurier, 
being  at  Meaux," — such  are  the  words  of  a  manuscript  pre- 
served in  that  city,  and  which  we  have  already  had  occasion 
to  quote, — "  entering  the  church  of  the  reverend  Fathers,  the 
Cordeliers,  and  seeing  the  statue  of  St.  Tfrancis,  in  high  relief, 
outside  the  door  of  the  convent,  where  that  of  St.  Roch  is  now 
placed,  struck  it  down,  and  broke  it."  Mazurier  was  arrested, 
and  thrown  into  prison,  where  he  at  once  fell  back  upon  his 
own  reflections  and  the  keenest  perplexity.  I|  It  was  the  Gos- 
pel rule  of  morals,  rather  than  its  great  doctrines,  that  had 
won  him  over  to  the  ranks  of  the  Reformers  ;  and  that  rule, 
taken  alone,  brought  with  it  no  strength.  Terrified  at  the 
prospect  of  the  stake  awaiting  him,  and  believing  that,  in 
France,  the  victory  would  be  sure  to  remain  with  Rome,  he 
easily  persuaded  himself  that  he  should  have  more  influence 
and  honour  by  going  back  to  the  Papacy.  Accordingly,  he 
recanted  his  former  teaching,  and  directed  that  doctrines  alto- 
gether opposed  to  those  ascribed  to  him  should  be  preached  in 

*  Sineret  crabrones  et  suis  se  studiis  oblectaret.     (Erasmi  Epp.  1279.) 

t  Deinde  ne  me  involveret  suae  causae.     (Ibi  1.) 

t  llle,  ut  habebat  quiddam  cum  palma  commune,  advcrsus  deterrentem 
tollebat  animos.  (Ibid.)  There  is  probably  an  allusion  tQ  Pliny,  Hist, 
Naiu rails,  xvi.  42. 

§  Historie  TUniversite  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  203, 

II  Gaillard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  v.  n.  234. 


pavanne's  recantation  and  remorse.         413 

his  parish  ;*  and  imiting-,  at  a  later  period,  with  most  fanatical 
of  the  Romish  party, — and  particularly  with  the  celebrated 
Ignatius  Loyola,! — he  became  thenceforward  the  most  zeal- 
ous supporter  of  the  Pcipal  cause.  From  the  days  of  the  Em- 
peror Julian  apostates  have  ever  been  among  the  sternest  ene- 
mies of  the  doctrines  which  they  once  professed. 

An  occasion  soon  offered  for  Mazurier  to  make  proof  of  his 
zeal.  The  youthful  James  Pavanne  had  also  been  thrown 
into  prison.  Martial  hoped  to  cover  his  own  shame  by  in- 
volving another  in  the  like  fall.  The  youth,  the  amiable  dis- 
position, the  learning,  and  the  integrity  of  Pavanne,  created 
a  general  interest  in  his  favour  ;  and  Mazurier  imagined  that 
he  himself  should  be  deemed  less  culpable  if  he  could  but  per- 
suade Master  James  to  a  similar  course.  Visiting  him  in  his 
cell,  he  began  by  pretending  that  he  had  advanced  further  in 
inquiry  into  the  tiuth  than  Pavanne  had  done.  "  You  are 
under  a  mistake  James,"  he  often  repeated  to  him  :  "  You  have 
not  gone  deep  into  these  matters :  you  have  made  acquaintance 
only  with  the  agitated  surface  of  them."|  Sophisms,  promises, 
threats,  were  freely  resorted  to.  The  unfortunate  youth,  de- 
ceived, disturbed,  and  perplexed,  yielded  to  these  perfidious  ad- 
vances ;  and  on  the  morrow  of  Chri>!tmas  day,  1524,  he  pub- 
licly abjured  his  pretended  errors.  But  from  that  hour  a 
spirit  of  melancholy  and  remorse  sent  by  the  Almighty, 
weighed  heavy  on  his  soul.  Deep  sadness  consumed  him, 
and  his  sighs  were  unceasing.  "  Ah  !"  he  repeated,  "  for  me 
life  has  nothing  left  but  bitterness."  Such  are  the  mournful 
consequences  of  apostacy. 

Nevertheless,  among  those  Frenchmen  who  had  received 
the  word  of  God  were  found  men  of  more  intrepid  hearts  than 
Pavanne  and  Mazurier.  Towards  the  end  of  1523,  Leclerc 
settled  at  Metz,  in  Lorraine,  "  and  there,"  says  Theodora  Beza, 

*  "  Comme  il  etait  homme  adroit,  11  esquiva  la  condamnation,"  says 
Crevier,  v.  p.  203. 

t  Cum  Ignatio  Loyola  init  amicitiam.  (Launoi  Navarrse  gymnasii 
historia,  p.  6-21.) 

t  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  09. 

35* 


414  ZEAL    OF    LECLERC    AND    CHATELAIN. 

"  he  acted  on  the  example  of  St.  Paul,  who,  while  labouring- 
at  Corinth  as  a  tent-maker,  persuaded  both  the  Jews  and  the 
Greeks."*  L^clerc,  while  purs'iing  his  industry  as  a  wool- 
comber,  instructed  those  of  his  jwn  condition  ;  and  amongf 
these  last  there  had  been  several  instances  of  real  conversion. 
Thus  did  this  humble  artizan  lay  the  foundations  of  a  church 
which  afterwards  became  celebrated. 

But  at  Metz,  Leclerc  did  not  stand  alone.  Among  the  ec- 
clesiastics of  that  city  was  one  John  Chatelain,  an  Augustine 
monk  of  Tournay,  and  doctor  of  theology,  who  had  been 
brought  to  the  knowledge  of  God, f  through  his  acquaintance 
with  the  Augustines  of  Antwerp.  Chatelain  had  gained  the 
reverence  of  the  people  by  the  strictness  of  his  morals  ;J  and 
the  doctrine  of  Christ,  when  preached  by  him,  attired  in  cope 
and  stole,  appeared  less  strange  to  the  inhabitants  of  Metz, 
than  when  it  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  a  poor  artizan,  laying 
aside  the  comb  with  which  he  carded  his  wool,  to  take  up  and 
explain  a  French  version  of  the  Gospels. 

By  the  active  zeal  of  these  two  men  the  light  of  evangel- 
ical truth  began  to  be  diffused  throughout  the  city.  A  very 
devout  woman  named  Toussaint,  one  of  the  middle  class  of 
the  people,  had  a  son  called  Peter,  with  whom,  in  the  hours 
of  his  childish  sports,  she  would  often  speak  of  serious  things. 
Every  one,  even  to  the  humblest,  lived  then  in  expectation  of 
some  extraordinary  event.  One  day  the  child  was  amusing 
himself  in  riding  on  a  st*ck,  in  a  i-oom  where  his  mother  was 
conversing  with  some  friends  on  the  things  of  God,  when  she 
said,  in  a  voice  of  emotion,  "Antichrist  vi^ill  soon  come  with 
great  power,  and  will  destroy  such  as  shall  have  been  con- 
verted by  the  preaching  of  Elias."^     These  words  being  fre- 

*  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  xviii.  3,  4.  Apostoli  apud  Ccrinthios  exem- 
plum  secutus.     (Bezae  Icones.) 

t  Vocatus  ad  cognitionem  Dei.     (Act.  Mart.  l80.) 

t  Gaillard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I.  v.  p.  232 

§  Cum  equitabam  in  arundine  longa,  memini  saepe  audisse  me  a  matre, 
venturum  Antichristura  cum  potentia  magna  perditurumque  eos  qui 
essent  ad  Eliaj  prsedicationem  conversi.  (Tossanus  Farello,  4  Sept. 
1525,  from  a  MS.  of  the  conclave  of  Neufchatel.) 


PETER    TOUSSAINT.  415 

quently  repeated,  arrested  the  attention  of  the  child,  and  he 
afterwards  recalled  them.  At  the  time  when  the  doctor  of 
hf  ology  and  the  wool-cornber  were  engaged  in  preaching  the 
Gospel  at  Metz.  Peter  Toussaint  was  grown  up  His  rela- 
tions and  friends,  wondering  at  his  precocious  genius,  con- 
ceived the  hope  of  seeing  him  in  an  exalted  station  in  the 
Church.  An  uncle  on  his  father's  side  was  primicier,  or 
head  of  the  chapter  of  Metz.*  The  cardinal  John  of  Lor- 
raine, son  of  Duke  Rene,  who  kept  a  large  establishment, 
expressed  much  regard  for  the  primicier  and  his  nephew, 
the  latter  of  whom,  notwithstanding  his  youth,  had  just  before 
obtained  a  prebend,  when  his  attention  was  drawn  to  the  study 
of  the  Gospel.  Why  may  not  the  preaching  of  Chatelain 
and  Leclerc  be  that  of  Elias  ?  It  is  true,  Antichrist  is  every- 
where arming  against  it.  But  what  matter?  "  Let  us,"  said 
he,  '-lift  up  our  heads,  looking  to  the  Lord,  who  will  come 
and  will  not  tarry. "f  The  light  of  truth  was  beginning  to 
find  entrance  among  the  principal  families  of  Metz.  The 
knight  Esch,  an  intimate  friend  of  the  primicier,  or  dean,  and 
much  respected,  had  been  recently  converted. if  The  friends 
of  the  Gospel  were  rejoicing  in  this  event : — Pierre  was  ac- 
customed to  term  him  "our  worthy  master  the  knight ;"  add- 
ing w^ith  noble  candour,  "  if  we  may  be  allowed  co  call  any 
man  master  on  earth. "§ 

Thus  Metz  was  about  to  become  a  focus  of  light  when  the 
rash  zeal  of  Leclerc  abruptly  arrested  its  slow  but  sure  pro- 
gress, and  excited  a  commotion  which  threatened  ruin  to  the 
infant  church.  The  populace  of  Metz  had  continued  to  ob- 
serve their  accustomed  superstitions,  and  Leclerc's  spirit  was 
stirred  within  him  at  the  sight  of  the  city  almost  wholly 
given  to  idolatry.  One  of  their  high  festivals  drew  nigh. 
About  a  league  distant  from  the  city  stood  a  chapel  inclosing 

*  Tossanus  Farello,  2 1st  July,  1535. 
t  Ihkl.  4th  Sept.  1525. 

X  Clarissimum  ilium  equitem  .  .  ,  cui  multum  familiaritae  et  amicitiae, 
cum  primicerio  Metensi,  patruo  meo.     (Toss.  Farello,  2d  Aug.  1524.) 
§  Ibid.  21st  July,  1525.     MS.  of  Neufchatel. 


416      '     LECLERC  BREAKS  THE  IMAGES. 

Statues  of  the  Virgin  and  of  the  most  venerated  saints  of  the 
surrounding  country,  whither  the  people  of  Metz  were  in  the 
habit  of  resorting  in  pilgrimage  on  a  certain  day  ai  the  year, 
to  worship  these  images  and  obtain  the  pardon  of  their  sins. 

On  the  eve  of  this  festival  the  pious  and  the  courageous 
spirit  of  Leclerc  was  deeply  agitated.  Had  not  God  said — 
"  Thou  jshalt  not  bow  doion  to  their  gods,  hut  thou  shalt  utter- 
ly overthrow  them,  and  quite  break  down  their  images  "*  Le- 
clerc understood  the  words  as  addressed  to  himself,  and  with- 
out conferring  with  Chatelain,  Esch,  or  any  of  those  who  he 
may  have  expected  would  dissuade  him,  quitted  the  city,  and 
approached  the  chapel.  There  he  collected  his  thoughts  as 
he  sat  silently  before  these  statues.  As  yet  the  way  was  open 
to  him  to  retire;  but  to-morrow — in  a  hw  hours — the  entire 
population  of  a  city,  which  ought  to  be  worshipping  God  alone, 
will  be  bowing  before  these  blocks  of  wood  and  stone.  A 
struggle  ensued  in  the  heart  of  the  humble  wool-carder,  simi- 
lar to  that  which  was  so  often  endured  in  the  hearts  of  the 
early  Christians.  What  signified  the  difference,  that  here  it 
was  the  images  of  the  saints  of  the  neighbouring  country,  and 
not  of  heathen  gods  and  goddesses — did  not  the  worship  ren- 
dered to  these  images  belong  of  right  to  God  alone  ?  Like 
Polyeucte  before  the  idols  of  the  temple,  his  heart  shuddered, 
and  his  courage  was  roused : 

Ne  perdons  plus  le  temps,  le  sacrifice  est  pret, 
Allons  y  du  vrai  Dieu  soutenir  I'interet ; 
Allons  fouler  aux  pieds  ce  foudre  ridicule 
Dont  arme  un  bois  pourri  ce  peuple  trop  credule 
Allons  en  eclairer  I'aveuglement  fatal, 
Allons  briser  ces  dieux  de  pierre  et  de  metal 
Abandonnons  nos  jours,  a  cette  ardeur  celeste — 
Faisons  triompher  Dieu ;  qu'il  dispose  du  reste. 

CorneiUe,  PohjeudeA 

Leclerc  accordingly  rose  from  his  seat,  and  approaching 
the  images,  removed  and  broke  them,  in  his  holy  indignation 

*  Exodus  XX.  4;  xxiii.  24. 

+  Polyeucte,  by  P.  Corneille.  What  many  admire  in  poetry,  they 
pass  condemnation  on  in  history. 


UPROAR  AMONG  THE  PEOPLE.  417 

scattering  the  fragments  before  the  altar.  He  did  not  doubt 
that  this  action  was  by  special  inspiration  of  the  spirit  of  tho 
Lord,  and  Theodore  Beza  was  of  the  same  judgment.* — This 
done,  Leclerc  returned  to  Metz,  re-entering  it  at  day-break, 
and  noticed  only  a  few  persons  at  the  moment  of  his  passmg 
the  gate  of  the  city.f 

Meanwhile  all  were  in  motion  in  the  ancient  city  of  Metz. 
The  bells  rang,  the  various  religious  bodies  mustered,  and  the 
entire  population,  headed  by  the  priests  and  monks,  left  the 
city,  reciting  prayers  and  chanting  hymns  to  the  saints  whom 
they  were  on  their  way  to  worship.  Crosses  and  banners 
went  forward  in  orderly  procession,  and  drums  and  instru- 
ments of  music  mingled  with  the  hymns  of  the  faithful.  After 
an  hours  march,  the  procession  reached  the  place  of  pilgrim- 
age. But  w^hat  was  the  astonishment  of  the  priests,  when  ad- 
vancing with  censers  in  hand,  they  beheld  the  images  they 
had  come  to  worship  mutilated,  and  their  fragments  strewed 
upon  the  earth.  They  drew  back  appalled, — and  announced 
to  the  crowd  of  worshippers  the  sacrilege  that  had  been  com- 
mitted. Instantly  the  hymns  were  hushed — the  music  stopped 
— the  banners  were  lowered,  and  agitation  pervaded  the  as- 
sembled multitude.  Canons,  curates,  and  monks,  laboured  still 
further  to  inflame  their  anger  and  excited  them  to  search  out 
the  guilty  person,  and  require  that  he  should  be  put  to  death.  J 
A  shout  was  raised  on  all  sides.  "  Death — Death  to  the  sa- 
crilegious wretch."  They  returned  in  haste  and  disorder  to 
the  city. 

Leclerc  was  known  to  all ;  several  times  he  had  been  heard 
to  call  the  images  idols ;  moreover  he  had  been  observed  at 
day-break  returning  from  the  direction  of  the  chapel.  He 
was  apprehended,  and  at  once  confessed  the  fact,  at  the  same 
time  conjuring  the  people  to  worship  God  alone.  But  his  ap- 
peal only  the  more  inflamed  the  rage  of  the  multitude,  who 

*  Divini  spiritus  afflatu  impulsus.     (Bezae  Icones.) 
t  Mane  apud  urhis  portam  deprehensus. 

X  Totam  civitatem  concitarunt  ad  auc'orem  ejus  facinoris  quaerendura. 
(Act.  Mart.  lat.  p.  189.) 


418  MARTYRDOM    OF    LECLERC 

would  have  dragged  him  to  instant  execution.  Placed  before 
his  judges,  he  courageously  declared  that  Jesus  Christ — God 
manifest  in  the  flesh — ought  to  be  the  sole  object  of  worship ; — 
and  was  sentenced  to  be  burnt  alive !  He  was  conducted  to 
the  place  of  execution. 

Here  an  awful  scene  awaited  him :  his  persecutors  had  been 
devisinor  all  that  could  render  his  suffering-s  more  dreadful. 
At  the  scaffold  they  were  engaged  heating  pincers,  as  instru- 
ments of  their  cruelty.  Leclerc  heard  with  calm  composure 
the  savage  yells  of  monks  and  people.  They  began  by  cut- 
ting off  his  right  hand  ;  then  taking  up  the  red  hot  pincers, 
they  tore  away  his  nose;  after  this,  with  the  same  instrument, 
they  lacerated  his  arms,  and  having  thus  mangled  him  in 
many  places,  they  ended  by  applying  the  burnings  to  his 
breasts.*  All  the  while  that  the  cruelty  of  his  enemies  was 
venting  itself  on  his  body,  his  soul  was  kept  in  perfect  peace. 
He  ejaculated  solemnly,! — "  Their  idols  are  silver  and  gold, 
the  work  of  me)i!s  hands.  They  have  mouths,  but  they  speak 
not :  eyes  have  they.,  hut  they  see  not :  they  have  ears.,  but  they 
hear  not :  noses  have  they.,  hut  they  sviell  not :  they  have 
hands^  but  they  ha?idle  not :  feet  have  they,  but  they  walk  not : 
neither  speak  they  through  their  throat.  They  that  make 
them  are  like  unto  them  ;  so  is  every  one  that  trusteth  in  them. 
O  Israel,  trust  thou  in  the  hord :  he  is  their  help  and  •heir 
shield."  The  enemies  were  awed  by  the  sight  of  so  much 
composure, — believers  were  confirmed  in  their  faith, :|:  and  the 
people,  whose  indignation  had  vented  itself  in  the  first  burst 
of  anger,  were  astonished  and  affected. §  After  undergoing 
these  tortures,  Leclerc  was  burned  by  a  slow  fire  in  conformity 
to  the  sentence.  Such  was  the  death  of  the  first  martyr  of  the 
Gospel  in  France. 

But  the  priests  of  INIctz  did  not  rest  there:  in  vain  had  they 

*  Naso  candentibus  forcipibusabrepto,  iisdem^uebrachio  utroque,  ipsis 
que  mammis  crudelissime  perustis.  (Bezse  Icones.)  MS,  of  Meaux ; 
Crespin,  &c. 

t  AUissima  voce  rccitans.     (Bezae  Icones.)     Psalm  cxv.  4 — 9, 

t  Adversariis  territis,  pi.is  magnopere  confirmatis.     (Ibid.) 

§  Nemo  qui  non  commoveretur,  attonitus.     (Act.  Mart.  lat.  p.  189.) 


AND    0^    CHATELAIN.  419 

laboured  to  shake  the  fidelity  of  Chatelain — "  He  is  like  the 
deaf  adder,"  said  they,  "  he  refuses  to  hear  the  truth."*  He 
was  arrested  by  the  servants  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and 
transferred  to  the  castle  of  Nommcny. 

After  this  he  was  degraded  by  the  officers  of  the  bishop^ 
who  stripped  him  of  his  vestments,  and  scraped  the  tips  of  his 
fingers  with  a  piece  of  broken  glass,  saying,  '"  Thus  do  we 
take  away  the  power  to  sacrifice,  consecrate,  and  bless,  which 
thou  didst  formerly  receive  by  the  anointing  of  thy  hands. "t 
Then  throwing  over  him  the  habit  of  a  layman,  they  handed 
him  over  to  the  secular  power,  which  doomed  him  to  be  burnt 
alive.  The  fire  was  quickly  lighted,  and  the  servant  of 
Christ  consumed  in  the  flames.  "  Nevertheless,"  observe  the 
historians  of  the  Gallican  Church,  who,  in  other  respects,  are 
loud  in  commendation  of  these  acts  of  rigour,  "  Lutheranism 
spread  through  all  the  district  of  Metz." 

From  the  moment  this  storm  had  descended  on  the  church 
of  Metz,  distress  and  alarm  had  prevailed  in  the  household  of 
Touissaint.  His  uncle,  the  dean,  without  taking  an  active 
part  in  tho  measures  resorted  to  against  Leclerc  and  Chate- 
lain, shuddered  at  the  thought  that  his  nephew  was  one  among 
those  people.  His  mother's  fears  were  still  more  aroused : 
not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost :  all  who  had  given  ear  to  the 
evangelic  doctrine  felt  their  liberty  and  lives  to  be  in  danger. 
The  blood  shed  by  the  inquisitors  had  but  increased  their  thirst 
for  more.  New  scafiblds  would  ere  long  be  erected  :  Pierre 
Touissaint,  the  knight  Esch,  and  others  besides,  hastily  quitted 
Metz,  and  sought  refuge  at  Basle. 

Thus  violently  did  the  storm  of  persecution  rage  at  Meaux 
and  at  Metz.  Repulsed  fiomthe  northern  provinces,  the  Gos- 
pel for  a  while  seemed  to  give  way;  but  the  Reformation  did 
but  change  its  ground,  and  the  south-eastern  provinces  became 
the  basis  and  theatre  of  the  movement. 

Farel,  who  had  retired  to  the  foot  of  the  Alps,  was  labour- 

+  Instar  aspidis  serpentis  aures  omni  surditate  affectas.  (Act.  Mart, 
lat.  p.  183.) 

t  Utriusquc  raanus  digitos  lamina  vitrea  erasit.     (Ibid.  p.  66.) 


420  THE    GOSPEL    EXPELLED    FROM    GAP. 

ing  actively  in  his  work.  It  was  a  small  thing  to  him  to  en- 
joy in  the  bosom  of  liis  family  the  sweets  of  domestic  life. 
The  report  of  the  events  that  had  taken  place  at  Meaux  and 
at  Paris  had  communicated  a  degree  of  terror  to  his  brothers; 
but  a  secret  influence  attracted  them  toward  those  new  and 
wondrous  truths  which  their  brother  William  was  in  the  habit 
of  dwelling  upon.  The  latter,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  his 
character,  besought  them  to  be  converted  to  the  Gospel;*  and 
Daniel,  Walter,  and  Claude  were  at  length  won  over  to  that 
God  whom  their  brother  declared  to  them.  They  did  not  at 
first  relinquish  the  worship  of  their  forefathers,  but  when  per- 
secution arose,  they  boldly  suffered  the  loss  of  friends,  pro- 
perty, and  country,  for  the  liberty  to  worship  Christ. f 

The  brothers  of  Luther  and  Zwingle  do  not  appear  to  have 
been  so  decidedly  converted  to  ihe  Gospel.  The  Reformation 
in  France  had  from  its  outset  a  peculiarly  dome,  tic  character. 

Farel's  exhortations  were  not  con  fin;  d  to  his  brothers.  He 
made  known  the  truth  to  his  relatives  ajd  friends  at  Gap  and 
its  vicinity.  It  would  even  appear,  if  we  give  credit  to  one 
manuscript,  that,  availiiig  himself  of  the  friendship  of  certain 
ecclesiastics,  he  began  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  some  of  the 
churches  ;J:  but  other  authorities  affirm  that  he  did  not  at  this 
time  occupy  the  pulpit.  However  that  may  be,  the  opinions 
he  professed  were  noised  abroad,  and  both  priests  and  people 
insisted  that  he  should  be  silenced:  "  What  new  and  strange 
heresy  is  this  ?"  said  they  ;  ''  how  can  we  think  that  all  the 
practices  of  devotion  are  useless  1  The  man  is  neither  monk 
nor  priest :  he  has  no  business  to  preach."^ 

It  was  not  long  before  the  whole  of  the  authorities,  civil  and 
ecclesiastical,  were  combined  against  Farel.  It  was  suffi- 
ciently evident  he  was  acting  with  that  sect  which  was  every- 

*  MS.  ofChoupard 

t  Farel,  says  a  French  MS.  )reserved  at  Genev: ,  was  a  gentleman  in 
station,  of  ample  fortune,  which  he  gave  up  for  the  sake  of  his  religion, — 
as  did  also  three  of  his  brothers. 

i  Tl  precha  I'Evangile  nubliquement  avec  une  grande  liberie.  (MS. 
of  Choupard.) 

§  Ibid.     Hist,  des  Eveq.  de  Nismes,  1738. 


A.NEMOND    DE    COCT.  421 

where  spoken  against.  "  Let  us  cast  out  from  amongst  us," 
cried  they,  "  this  firebrand  of  discord."  Farel  was  summoned 
before  the  judges,  roughly  handled,  and  forcibly  expelled  the 
city."* 

Yet  he  did  not  forsake  his  country, — the  open  plains  and 
villages, — the  banks  of  the  Durance, — of  the  Guisanne, — of 
the  Isere, — was  there  not  many  a  soul  in  those  localitits  that 
stood  in  need  of  the  Gospel  ?  and  if  he  should  run  any  risk, 
were  not  those  forests,  caverns,  and  steep  rocks,  which  had 
been  the  familiar  haunts  of  his  childhood,  at  hand  to  afford 
him  their  shelter  ?  He  began  therefore  to  traverse  the  coun- 
try, preaching  in  private  dwellings  and  secluded  meadows, 
and  retiring  for  shelter  to  the  woods  and  overhanging  tor- 
reiitsf  It  was  a  training  by  which  God  was  preparing  him 
for  other  trials :  "  Crosses,  persecutions,  and  the  lyings-in-wait 
of  Satan,  of  which  I  had  intimation,  were  not  wanting,"  said 
he ,'  "they  were  even  much  more  than  I  could  have  borne  in 
my  own  strength,  but  God  is  my  father :  He  has  ministered, 
and  will  for  ever  minister  to  me  all  needful  strength."  J  Very 
many  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  countries  received  the  truth 
from  his  lips  ;  and  thus  the  same  persecution  that  drove  Farel 
from  Paris  and  Meaux  was  the  means  of  diffusing  the  Refor- 
mation in  the  countries  of  the  Saone,  the  Rhone,  and  the 
Alps.  In  all  ages,  it  has  been  found  that  they  who  have  been 
scattered  abroad,  have  gone  everyivhere  preaching  the  word 
ofGod.^ 

Among  the  Frenchmen  who  were  at  this  time  gained  over 
to  the  Gospel,  was  a  Dauphinese  gentleman,  the  Knight  Ane- 
mond  de  Coct,  the  younger  son  of  the  auditor  of  Coct,  the 
lord  of  Chatelard.  Active,  ardent,  truly  pious,  and  opposed  to 
the  generally  received  veneration  of  relics,  processions  and 

♦  II  fut  chasse,  voire  fort  rudement,  tant  par  I'eveque  que  par  ceux  de 
la  ville.     (MS.  of  Choupard.) 

•f  Olim  errabundus  in  sylvis,  in  nemoribus,  in  aquis  vagatus  sum. 
(Farel  ad  Capit.  de  Bucer-  Basil  25th  Oct.  1526.     MS.  of  Neufchatel) 

X  Non  defuere  crux,  persecutio  et  Satanae  machinamenta  .  .  .  (Farel 
Galeoto.) 

§  Acts  viiL 

VOL.  III.  36 


422  anemond's  zeal. 

clergy,  Anemond  readily  received  the  evangelic  doctrine,  and 
was  soon  entirely  devoted  to  it.  He  could  not  patiently  en- 
dure the  formality  that  reigned  around  him,  and  it  was  his 
wish  to  see  all  the  ceremonies  of  the  Church  abolished.  The 
religion  of  the  heart,  the  inward  worship  of  the  Spirit,  was 
everything  in  his  estimation :  "  Never,"  said  he,  "  has  my 
mind  found  any  rest  in  externals.  The  sum  of  Christianity  is 
in  that  text, — '  John  truly  baptized  with  water,  but  ye  shall  be 
baptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost.'  We  must  become  '  new 
creatures.'  "* 

Coct,  endued  with  the  vivacity  of  his  nation,  spoke  and 
wrote  one  day  in  French,  the  next  in  Latin.  He  read  and 
quoted  Donatus,  Thomas  AqtJinas,  Juvenal,  and  the  Bible ! 
His  style  was  brief,  and  marked  by  abrupt  transitions.  Ever 
restless,  he  would  present  himself  wherever  a  door  seemed  to 
be  open  to  the  Gospel,  or  a  famous  teacher  was  to  be  heard. 
His  cordiality  won  the  affection  of  all  his  acquaintances. 
"  He  is  a  man  of  distinction,  both  for  his  birth  and  his  learn- 
ing," observed  Zwingle,  at  a  later  period,  "  but  yet  more  dis- 
tinguished for  his  piety  and  obliging  disposition."!  Anemond 
is  a  sort  of  type  of  many  Frenchmen  of  the  Reformed  opin- 
ions :  vivacity,  simplicity,  a  zeal  which  passes  readily  into 
imprudence, — such  are  the  qualities  often  recurring  among 
those  of  his  countrymen  who  have  embraced  the  Gospel.  But 
at  the  very  opposite  extreme  of  the  French  character,  we  be- 
hold the  grave  aspect  of  Calvin,  seiving  as  a  weighty  coun- 
terpoise to  the  light  step  of  Coct.  Calvin  and  Anemond  are 
as  the  two  poles  between  whom  the  religious  world  of  France 
revolves. 

No  sooner  had  Anemond  received  from  Farel  the  know- 
ledge of  Jesus  ChristJ  than  he  set  about  winning  souls  to  that 
doctrine  of '  spirit  and  life.'     His  father   was  no  more.     His 

♦  Nunquam  in  externis  quievit  spiritus  meus.  (Coctus  Farello,  MS. 
of  the  Conclave  of  Neufchatcl.) 

t  Virum  est  genere,  doctrinaque  clarum,  ita  pietate  humaniteque  longe 
clariorem.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  319.) 

t  In  a  letter  to  Farel,  he  signs : — Filius  tuus  huinilis.    (2  Sept.  1524.) 


PIERRE    DE    SEBVILLE.  423 

elder  brother, — of  a  stern  and  haughty  temper, — disdainfully 
repulsed  his  advances.  Laurent, — the  youngest  of  the  family, 
and  affectionately  attached  to  him, — seemed  but  half  to  enter 
into  the  understanding  of  his  words,  and  Anemond,  disap- 
pointed in  his  own  family,  turned  his  activity  in  another  di- 
rection. 

Hitherto  it  was  among  the  laity  only  that  this  awakenings 
in  Dauphiny  had  been  known.  Farel,  Anemond,  and  their 
friends,  wished  much  to  see  a  priest  taking  the  lead  in  the 
movement,  which  promised  to  make  itself  felt  throughout  the 
Alps.  There  dwelt  at  Grenoble  a  curate, — a  minorite,  by 
name  Pierre  de  Sebville,  famed  for  the  eloquence  of  his 
preaching,  right-minded  and  simple, — "  conferring  not  with 
flesh  and  blood," — and  whom  God,  by  gradual  process,  was 
drawing  to  the  knowledge  of  Himself*  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore Sebville  was  brought  to  the  acknowledgment  that  there 
is  no  unerring  Teacher  save  the  word  of  the  Lord;  and,  re- 
linquishing such  teaching  as  rests  only  on  the  witness  of  men, 
he  determined  in  his  heart  to  preach  a  Gospel,  at  once  "  clear, 
pure,  and  holy."!  These  three  words  exhibit  the  complete 
character  of  the  Reformation.  Coct  and  Farel  rejoiced  to 
hear  this  new  preacher  of  Grace,  raising  his  powerful  voice 
in  their  country  ;  and  they  concluded  that  their  own  presence 
would  thenceforth  be  less  necessary. 

The  more  the  awakening  spread,  the  more  violently  did  op- 
position arise.  Anemond,  longing  to  know  more  of  Luther, 
Zwingle,  and  of  the  countries  which  had  been  the  birth  place 
of  the  Reformation, — and  indignant  at  finding  the  Gospel  re- 
jected by  his  own  countrymen,  resolved  to  bid  farewell  to  bis 
country  and  family.  He  made  his  will, — settling  his  proper- 
ty, then  in  the  hands  of  his  elder  brother,  the  lord  of  Chate- 
lard,  on  his  brother  Laurent.  J    This  done,  he  quitted  Dauphiny 

*  Pater  coelestis  animum  sic  tuum  ad  se  traxit.     (Zwinglius  Sebvillae, 

Epp.  p.  320.) 

t  Nitide,  pure,  sancteque  praedicare  in  animum  inducis.     (Ibid.) 

X  "  My  brother  Anemond  Coct,  when  setting  fqrth  from  this  country, 

J3ia4e  lae  his  heir."    (MS.  Letters  in  the  Library  at  Neufchatel.) 


424  ANEMOND    VISITS    LUTHER. 

and  France,  and  passing  over,  with  impetuous  haste,  countries 
which  were  then  not  traversed  without  much  difficulty,  he 
went  through  Switzerland,  and  scarcely  stopping  at  Basle,  ar- 
rived at  Wittemberg,  where  Luther  then  was.  It  was  shortly- 
after  the  second  diet  of  Nuremberg.  The  French  gentleman 
accosted  the  Saxon  Doctor  with  his  accustomed  vivacity, — 
spoke  with  enthusiastic  warmth  concerning  the  Gospel. — and 
dwelt  largely  on  the  plans  he  had  formed  for  the  propagation 
of  the  truth.  The  grave  Saxon  smiled  as  he  listened  to  the 
southern  imagination  of  the  speaker ;  and  Luther,*  who  had 
some  prejudices  against  the  national  character  of  the  French, 
— was  won,  and  carried  away  by  Anemond.  The  thought 
that  this  gentleman  had  made  the  journey  from  France  to 
Wittemberg,  for  the  Gospel's  sake,  affected  him.f  "  Cer- 
tainly," remarked  the  Reformer  to  his  friends,  "that  French 
knight  is  an  excellent  man,  and  both  learned  and  pious :"  J 
and  Zwingle  formed  a  similar  opinion  of  him. 

Anemond  having  seen  what  had  been  effected  by  the  agency 
of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  imagined  that  if  they  would  but  take 
in  hand  France  and  Savoy,  nothing  could  stand  against  them ; 
and  accordingly,  failing  to  persuade  them  to  remove  thither,  he 
earnestly  desired  of  them  that,  at  least,  they  would  write. 
He  particularly  besought  Luther  to  address  a  letter  to  Charles 
Duke  of  Savoy,  brother  of  Louisa  and  of  Philibert,  and  uncle 
to  Francis  the  First  and  Margaret.  "  That  prince,"  observed 
he  to  Luther,  "  is  much  drawn  to  piety  and  true  religion,^ 
and  he  takes  pleasure  in  conversing  concerning  the  Reforma- 
tion with  certain  persons  at  his  court:  He  is  just  the  one  to 
enter  into  your  views, — for  his  motto  is,  '  Nihil  deest  timenti- 
bus  Deum  ;'\\  and  that  is  your  own  maxim.  Assailed  alter- 
*  "Mire  ardens  in  Evangelium,'^  said  Luther  to  Spalatin.  (Epp.  ii.  p. 
340.)  ■'  Sehr  briinstig  in  der  Herrlichkeit  des  Evangelii,"  said  he  to  the 
Duke  of  Savoy.     (Ibid.  p.  401.) 

t  Evangelii  gratia  hue  profectus  e  Gallia.     (L.  Epp.  ii.  p.  340.) 
J  Hie  Gallus  eques  .  .  .  optimus  vir  est,  eruditus  ac  pius.     (Ibid.) 
§  Ein  grosser  Leibhaber  der  wahren  Religion  und  Gottseligkeit.     (Ibid. 
p.  401.) 

II  "  They  that  fear  God  shall  want  no  good  thing."     (Hist.  Gen.  de 
la  Maison  de  Sayoie  par  Guichenon,  ii.  p.  228.) 


Luther's  letter  425 

nately  by  the  Empire  and  by  France,  humbled,  broken  in 
spirit,  and  continually  in  danger,  his  heart  knows  its  need  of 
God  and  His  grace :  ail  he  wants  is  to  be  impelled  to  action : 
once  gained  over  to  the  Gospel,  his  influence  would  be  im- 
mense in  Switzerland,  Savoy,  and  France.   Pray  write  to  him," 

Luther  was  a  thorough  German,  and  would  not  have  been 
at  ease  beyond  the  frontier  of  his  own  nation.  Yet,  in  true 
catholicity  of  heart,  his  hand  was  immediately  put  out  where 
he  recognised  brethren ;  and  wherever  a  word  might  be 
spoken  with  effect,  he  took  care  to  make  it  heard.  Some* 
times  on  the  same  day  he  would  write  letters  to  countries  se- 
parated  by  the  widest  distances, — as  the  Netherlands,  Savoy, 
Livonia. 

"  Assuredly,"  he  answered  Anemond,  "  a  love  for  the  Gos- 
pel is  a  rare  and  inestimable  jewel  in  a  prince's  crown,"* 
And  he  proceeded  to  write  to  the  Duke  a  letter  which  Ane- 
mond  probably  carried  with  him  as  far  as  Switzerland. 

"  I  beg  your  Highness's  pardon,"  wrote  Luther,  "  if  I,  a 
poor  and  unfriended  monk,  venture  to  address  you  ;  or  rather 
I  would  ask  of  your  Highness  to  ascribe  this  boldness  of  mine 
to  the  glory  of  the  Gospel, — for  I  cannot  see  that  glorious 
light  arise  and  shine  in  any  quarter,  without  exulting  at  the 
sight.  .  .  .  My  hope  is,  that  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ  may  win 
over  many  souls  by  the  power  of  your  Serene  Highness's  ex- 
ample. Therefore  it  is  I  desire  to  instruct  you  in  our  teach- 
ing. We  believe  that  the  very  beginning  of  salvation  and  the 
sum  of  Christianity  consists  in  faith  in  Christ,  who,  by  his 
blood  alone, — and  not  by  any  works  of  ours,-— has  put  away 
Sin,  and  destroyed  the  power  of  death.  We  believe  that  this 
faith  is  God's  gift,  formed  in  our  hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  not  attained  by  any  effort  of  our  ow-n; — for  faith  is  a  prin- 
ciple of  life,*  begetting  man  spiritually,  and  making  him  a 
new  creature," 

*  Eine  seltsaine  Gabe  und  hohes  Kleinod  unter  den  Fursten.  (L, 
Epp.  ii.  p.  401.) 

t  Der  Glaube  ist  ein  lebendig  Ding  .  .  .  (Ibid,  p,  502,)  The  Latin 
is  wanting. 

36* 


426  TO    THE    DUKE    OF    SAVOY. 

Luther  passed  thence  to  the  effects  of  faith,  and  showed  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  be  possessed  of  that  faith  without  the 
superstructure  of  false  doctrine  and  human  merits, — built  up 
so  laboriously  by  the  Church, — ^being  at  once  swejt  away. 
"  If  Grace,"  said  he,  "  is  the  purchase  of  Christ's  blood,  it 
follows  that  it  is  not  the  purchase  of  works  of  ours.  Hence 
the  whole  train  of  works  of  all  the  cloisters  in  the  world  are, 
— for  this  purpose, — useless  ;  and  such  institutions  should  be 
abolished,  as  opposed  to  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  as 
leading  men  to  trust  in  their  own  good  works.  Ingrafted  in 
Christ,  nothing  remains  for  us  but  to  do  good  ;  because  being 
become  good  trees,  we  ought  to  give  proof  of  it  by  beaming 
good  fruits." 

"  Gracious  Prince  and  Lord,"  said  Luther,  in  conclusion  : 
"  May  your  Highness,  having  made  so  happy  a  beginning, 
help  to  spread  this  doctrine, — not  by  the  sword,  which  would 
be  a  hindrance  to  the  Gospel, — but  by  inviting  to  your  states 
teachers  who  preach  the  Word.  It  is  by  the  breath  of  His 
mouth  that  Jesus  will  destroy  Antichrist ;  so  that,  as  Daniel 
describes,  he  may  be  broken  without  hand.  Therefore,  most 
Serene  Prince,  let  your  Highness  cherish  that  spark  that  has 
been  kindled  in  your  heart.  Let  a  flame  go  forth  from  the 
house  of  Savoy,  as  once  from  the  house  of  Joseph.*  May 
all  France  be  as  stubble  before  that  fire.  May  it  burn,  blaze, 
purify,— -that  so  that  renowned  kingdom  may  truly  take  the 
title  of  '  Most  Christian,^ — -which  it  has  hitherto  received  only 
in  reward  of  blood  shed  in  the  cause  of  Antichrist." 
.  Thus  did  Luther  endeavour  to  diffuse  the  Gospel  in  France. 
We  have  no  means  of  knowing  the  effect  of  this  letter  on  the 
Prince ;  but  we  do  not  find  that  he  ever  gave  signs  of  a  wish 
to  detach  himself  from  Rome.  In  1523,  he  requested  Adrian 
VI.  to  be  godfather  to  his  first-born  son ;  and  at  a  later  period, 
we  find  the  Pope  promising  him  a  cardinal's  hat  for  his  second 
son.  Anemond,  after  making  an  effort  to  be  admitted  to  see 
the  court  and  Elector  of  Saxony,!  and,  for  this  purpose,  pro- 

*  Das  ein  Feuer  von  dem  Hause  Sophoy  ausgehe.     (L,  Epp,  ii.  p.  406.) 
t  Vult  videre  aulam  et  faciem  Principis  nostri.    (Ibid.  p.  340.) 


427 

viding-  himself  with  a  letter  from  Luther,  returned  to  Basle, 
more  than  ever  resolved  to  risk  his  life  in  the  cause  of  the 
Gospel.  In  the  ardour  of  his  purpose  he  would  have  roused 
the  entire  nation.  "  All  that  I  am,  or  ever  can  be,"  said  he, — 
"A'  I  have  or  ever  can  have,  it  is  my  earnest  desire  to  devote 
to  the  glory  of  God."'' 

At  Basle  Anemond  found  his  countryman  Farel.  The  let- 
ters of  Anemond  had  excited  in  him  a  great  desire  to  be  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  the  Swiss  and  German  Reformers, 
Moreover  Farel  felt  the  need  of  a  sphere  in  which  his  activity 
might  be  more  freely  put  forth.  He  accordingly  quitted 
France,  which  already  ofiered  only  the  scaffold  to  the  preach- 
ers of  a  pure  Gospel.  Taking  to  bye-paths,  and  hiding  in 
the  woods,  he  with  difficulty  escaped  out  of  the  hands  of  his 
enemies.  Often  had  he  mistaken  the  direction  in  which  his 
route  lay.  "  God,"  observes  he,  "designs,  by  my  helplessness 
in  these  little  matters,  to  teach  me  how  helpless  I  am  in  greater 
things."t  At  length  he  entered  Switzerland  in  the  beginning 
of  1  524.  There  he  was  destined  to  spend  his  life  in  the  ser- 
vice .  f  the  Gospel, — and  then  it  was  that  France  began  to 
poiv  into  Switzerland  those  noble  heralds  of  the  Gospel  who 
were  to  seat  the  Reformation  in  Romane  Switzerland,  and 
communicate  to  it  a  new  and  powerful  impulse  throughout 
and  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  confederated  cantons. 

The  catholicity  of  the  Reformation  is  a  beautiful  character 
in  its  history.  The  Germans  pass  into  Switzerland — the 
French  into  Germany — and,  at  a  somewhat  later  period,  we 
see  the  English  and  the  Scotch  passing  to  the  Continent,  and 
the  Continental  teachers  to  Great  Britain.  The  Reformations 
of  the  several  countries  take  their  rise  independently  of  each 
other — but  as  soon  as  they  look  around  them,  their  hands  are 
held  out  to  each  other.  To  them  there  is  one  Faith,  one  Spirit, 
one  Lord.     It  is  an  error  to  treat  the  history  of  the  Refor- 

*  Q,uidquid  sum,  habeo,  ero,  habebove,  ad  Dei  gloriam  insumere  mens 
est.     (Coct.  Epp.  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

t  Voluit  Dominus  per  infirma  haec,  docere  quid  possit  homo  in  majori- 
bus,     (Farel  Capitoni.  Ibid,) 


428  (ECOLAMPADIUS    AND    FAREL. 

mation  in  connection  with  any  single  country; — the  work 
was  one  and  the  same  in  all  lands ;  and  the  Protestant  Churches 
were  from  the  very  beginning,  a  "  whole  body  fitly  joined  to- 
gether."* 

Certain  persons  who  had  fled  from  France  and  Lorraine  at 
this  time,  formed  in  the  city  of  Basle  a  French  Church,  whose 
members  had  escaped  from  the  scaffold.  These  persons  had 
spread  the  report  of  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  the  events  that  had 
occurred  at  Meaux ;  and  when  Farel  entered  Switzerland  he 
was  already  known  as  one  of  the  most  fearless  heralds  of  the 
truth. 

He  was  immediately  introduced  to  CEcolampadius,  who, 
some  time  before  this,  had  returned  to  Basle.  Seldom  does  it 
happen  that  two  characters  more  opposite  are  brought  to- 
gether. QEcolampadius  charmed  by  his  gentleness — Farel 
carried  away  his  hearers  by  his  earnestness — but  from  the 
moment  they  met  these  two  men  felt  themselves  one  in  heart,  j* 
It  resembled  the  first  meeting  of  Luther  and  Melancthon. 
CEcolampadius  bade  him  welcome,  gave  him  an  apartment  in 
his  house,  received  him  at  his  table,  and  introduced  him  to  his 
friends ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  learning,  piety,  and 
courage  of  the  young  Frenchman  won  the  hearts  of  his  new 
friends.  Pellican,  Imelia,  Wolf  hard,  and  others  of  the 
preachers  of  Basle,  were  fortified  in  their  faith  by  the  energy 
of  his  exhortations.  CEcolampadius  was  just  then  suffering 
under  depression  of  spirits: — "Alas,"  he  wrote  to  Zwingle, 
"  it  is  in  vain  I  preach — I  see  no  hope  of  any  effect  being 
produced.  Perhaps  among  the  Turks  I  might  succeed  bet- 
ter.":!: "  Oh,"  added  he,  sighing,  "  I  ascribe  the  failure  to 
myself  alone."  But  the  more  he  saw  of  Farel  the  more  his 
heart  felt  encouragement;  and  the  courage  he  derived  from 
the    Frenchman   laid   the   ground  of  an  undying  affection. 

*  Eph.  iv.  16. 

t  Amicum  semper  habui  a  primo  colloquio.  (Farel  ad  Bulling.  27th 
May,  1556.) 

t  Fortasse  in  raediis  Turcis  felicius  docuissem.  (Zw.  et  Ecol.  Epp.  p. 
SOO.) 


COWARDICE    OF    ERASMUS. 


429 


"  Dear  Farel,"  said  he  to  him,  "  I  trust  the  Lord  will  make 
ours  a  friendship  for  all  eternity — and  if  we  are  parted  below, 
our  joy  will  only  be  the  greater  when  we  shall  be  gathered 
in  presence  of  Christ  in  the  heavens  !"*  Pious  and  affecting 
thoughts.  The  coming  of  Farel  was  evidently  help  from 
above. 

But  whilst  the  Frenchman  took  delight  in  the  society  of 
CEcolampadius,  he  drew  back  with  cool  independence  from  a 
man  at  whose  feet  the  principal  nations  of  Christendom  paid 
homage.  The  prince  of  scholars — the  man  whose  smile  and 
words  were  objects  of  general  ambition — the  teacher  of  that 
age — Erasmus — was  passed  over  by  Farel.  The  young 
Dauphinese  had  declined  to  pay  his  respects  to  the  venerated 
philosopher  of  Rotterdam — having  no  relish  for  those  who  are 
never  more  than  half-hearted  for  truth,  and  who  in  the  clear 
understanding  of  the  consequences  of  error,  are  nevertheless 
full  of  allowances  for  those  who  propagate  it.  Accordingly 
we  have  in  Farel  that  decision  which  has  become  one  of  the 
distinguishing  characters  of  the  Reformation  in  France,  and 
in  those  cantons  of  Switzerland  bordering  on  France — char- 
acters which  have  been  by  some  deemed  stiffness,  exclusive- 
ness,  and  intolerance.  A  controversy  had  commenced  be- 
tween Erasmus  and  Lefevre,  arising  out  of  the  commentaries 
put  forth  by  the  latter, — and  in  all  companies  parties  were 
divided  for  the  one  and  against  the  other.f  Farel  had  un- 
hesitatingly ranged  himself  on  the  side  of  his  teacher.  But 
that  which  chiefly  roused  his  indignation  was  the  cowardly 
course  pursued  by  the  philosopher  toward  the  evangelical 
party; — Erasmus's  doors  were  closed  against  them.  That 
being  the  case,  Farel  w^ill  not  enter  them! — to  him  this  was 
felt  to  be  no  loss ;  convinced  as  he  was  that  the  very  ground 
of  a  true  theology — the  piety  of  the  heart — was  wanting  to 
Erasmus.     "  Frobenius's  wife  knows  more  of  theology  than 

*  Mi  Farelle,  spero  Dominum  conservaturum  amicitiam  nostram  im- 
mortalera ;  et  si  hie  conjuniri  nequimus,  tanto  beatius  alibi  apud  Chris- 
tum erit  contubernium.     (Zw.  et  CEcol.  Epp.  p.  201.) 

t  Nullum  est  pene  convivium  .  .  .  (Er.  Epp,  p.  179.) 


430  FRENCH    FRANKNESS. 

he  does,"  remarked  Farel ;  and  stung  by  the  intelligence  that 
Erasmus  had  written  to  the  Pope,  advising  him  how  to  set 
about  "  extinguishing  the  spread  of  Lutheranism,"*  he  public- 
ly declared  that  Erasmus  was  endeavouring  to  stifle  the  Gospel. 
This  independence  of  young  Farel  disturbed  the  composure 
of  the  man  of  learning.  Princes,  kings,  learned  men,  bishops, 
priests,  and  men  of  the  world,  all  were  ready  to  ofl^er  him  the 
tribute  of  their  admiration: — Luther  himself  had  treated  him 
with  respect,  so  far  as  he  was  personally  mixed  up  in  this  con- 
troversy; and  this  Dauphinese — a  nameless  refugee — ven- 
tured to  brave  his  power.  So  insolent  a  freedom  caused  Eras- 
mus more  annoyance  than  the  homage  of  the  world  at  large 
could  give  him  joy,  and  hence  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  vent- 
ing his  spite  against  Farel.  Moreover,  in  assailing  him  he 
contributed  to  clear  himself,  in  the  judgment  of  the  Roman 
Catholics,  of  the  suspicion  of  heresy, — "  I  never  met  with  such 
a  liar, — such  a  restless  seditious  spirit  as  that  man,"t  observed 
be;  "  his  heart  is  full  of  vanit}^,  and  his  tongue  charged  with 
malice."  J  But  the  anger  of  Erasmus  did  not  stop  at  Farel — 
it  was  directed  against  all  the  Frenchmen  who  had  sought  re- 
fuge at  Basle,  and  whose  frankness  and  decision  were  an 
offence  to  him.  They  paid  evidpntly  no  Tespect  to  persons; 
and  wherever  the  truth  was  not  frankly  confessed,  they  took 
no  notice  of  the  man,  how  great  soever  his  genius  might  be. 
Wanting,  perhaps,  in  the  graciousness  of  the  Gospel,  there 
was  in  their  faithfulness  that  which  reminds  one  of  the 
prophets  of  old — and  it  is  truly  delightful  to  contemplate  men 
who  stand  erect  before  that  to  which  the  world  bows  down. 
Erasmus,  astonished  by  this  lofty  disdain,  complained  of  it  in 
all  companies. — "  What  mean  we,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthon, 
"  to  reject  pontiffs  and  bishops,  only  to  submit  to  the  insolence 
of  more  cruel  ragamuffin  tyrants  and  madmen,^  for  such  it  is 

*  Consilium  quo  sic  extinguatur  incendium  Lutheranum.  (Er.  Epp. 
p.  179.) 

t  Cluo  nihil  vidi  mendacius,  virulentius,  et  seditiosius.     (Ibid.  p.  798  ) 

t  Acidse  linguae  et  vanissimus.     (Ibid.  p.  2129.) 

§  Scabiosos  .  .  ,  rabiosos  .  .  .  nam  nuper  nobis  niisit  Gallia.  (Ibid, 
p.  350.) 


431 

that  France  has,  given  us." — "  There  are  some  Frenchr  en," 
he  wrote  to  the  Pope's  secretary  (at  the  same  time  sending 
him  his  book  on  Free  Will),  "  who  are  even  more  insane 
than  the  Germans  themselves.  They  have  ever  on  their  lips 
these  five  words — Gospel — Word  of  God — Faith — Christ — - 
Holy  Spirit — and  yet  I  doubt  not  but  that  it  is  the  spirit  of 
Satan  that  urges  them  on."*  In  place  of  Farellus  he  often 
wrote  Fallicus,  thus  designating  as  a  cheat  and  deceiver  one 
of  the  most  frank-hearted  men  of  his  age. 

The  rage  and  anger  of  Erasmus  were  at  their  height, 
when  information  arrived  that  Farel  had  termed  him  a 
Balaam.  Farel  thought  that  Erasmus,  like  that  prophet,  was 
(perhaps  unconsciously)  swayed  by  gifts  to  curse  the  people 
of  God.  The  man  of  learning,  no  longer  able  to  restrain 
himself,  resolved  to  chastise  the  daring  Dauphinese:  and  one 
day,  when  Farel  was  discussing  certain  topics  of  Christian 
doctrine  with  some  friends,  in  the  presence  of  Erasmus,  the 
latter  rudely  interrupted  him  with  the  question, — "  On  what 
ground  do  you  call  me  Balaam  ?"f  Farel,  who  was  at  first 
disconcerted  by  the  abruptness  of  the  question,  soon  recovered 
himself,  and  made  answer  that  it  was  not  he  who  had  given 
him  that  name.  Being  pressed  to  say  who  it  was,  he  men- 
tioned Du  Blet  of  Lyons,  who  like  himself  had  sought  refuge 
at  Basle.|  "  Perhaps  he  may  have  made  use  of  the  expres- 
sion," replied  Erasmus,  "but  it  is  yourself  who  taught  it  him." 
Then  ashamed  to  have  lost  his  temper,  he  hastily  changed  the 
subject: — "  Why  is  it,"  asked  he,  "that  you  assert  that  we  are 
not  to  invoke  the  saints?  Is  it  because  Holy  Scripture  does 
not  enjoin  the  practice?" — "  It  is,"  answered  the  Frenchman. 
''  Well,"  said  the  man  of  learning,  "  I  call  on  you  to  show 
from  Scripture  that  we  should  invoke  the  Holy  Ghost?" 
Farel  gave  this  clear  and  solid  answer:    "  If  He  be  God,  we 


♦  Non  duitem  quin  agantur  spiritu  SatanfB.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  350.) 
t  Diremi  disputationem  .  .  .  (Ibid.  p.  804.) 

X  Ut  diceret  negotiatorem  quemdam  Dupletum   hoc  dixisse.     (Ibid, 
p.  2129.) 


432  farel's  propositions. 

must  invoke  Him."*  "I  dropt  the  conversation,"  said  Eras- 
mus, "for  the  night  was  closing  in."t  From  that  time, 
whenever  Farel's  name  came  under  his  pen,  the  opportunity- 
was  taken  to  represent  him  as  a  hateful  person,  on  every 
account  to  be  shunned.  The  Reformer's  letters  are,  on  the 
contrary,  marked  by  moderation  as  regards  Erasmus.  Even 
in  those  most  constitutionally  hasty,  the  Gospel  is  a  more 
gracious  thing  than  Philosophy. 

The  Evangelic  doctrine  had  already  many  friends  in  Basle, 
in  the  town-council,  and  among  the  people;  but  the  Doctors 
and  the  University  opposed  it  to  the  utmost  of  their  power. 
QEcolampadius  and  Stor,  pastor  at  Liestal,  had  maintained 
certain  theses  against  them.  Farel  thought  it  well  to  assert 
in  Switzerland  also  the  great  maxim  of  the  Evangelic  school 
of  Paris  and  of  Meaux, — God^s  Word  is  all-sufficient.  He 
requested  permission  of  the  University  to  maintain  some 
theses, — "the  rather,"  he  modestly  added,  "to  be  reproved  if  I 
am  in  error,  than  to  teach  others. "J  But  the  University 
refused  its  permission. 

Farel  then  appealed  to  the  Council,  and  the  Council  issued 
public  notice,  that  a  Christian  man,  by  name  William  Farel, 
having,  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  prepared  certain 
articles  conformable  to  the  Gospel,^  leave  was  given  him  to 
maintain  the  same  in  Latin.  The  University  forbade  all 
priests  and  students  to  be  present  at  the  conference,  and  the 
Council  met  the  prohibition  by  one  of  an  opposite  tenor. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  thirteen  propositions  that 
Farel  put  forth : — 

"  Christ  has  left  us  the  most  perfect  rule  of  life ;  no  one  can 
lawfully  take  away,  or  add  anything  thereto." 

*  Si  Deus  est,  inquit,  invocandus  est.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  804.) 

t  Omissa  disputatione,  nam  imminebat  nox.     (Ibid.)     We  have  only 

Erasmus'  account  of  this  conversation ;  he  himself  reports  that  Farel 

gave  a  very  different  account  of  it. 

t  Damit  er  gelehrt  werde,  ober  irre.     (Fussli  Beytr.  iv.  p.  244.) 

§  Aus  Eingiessung  des  heiligen  Geistes  ein  christlicher  Mensch  und 

Bruder.     (Ibid.) 


FAITH    AND    SCRlPTtJRE.  433 

''To  shape  our  lives  by  any  other  precepts  fhan  those  of 
Christ,  leads  directly  to  impiety." 

"  The  true  ministry  of  priests  is  to  attend  only  to  the 
ministry  of  the  Word ;  and  for  them  there  is  no  higher 
dignity." 

"  To  take  from  the  certainty  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  is  to 
destroy  it." 

"  He  who  thinks  to  be  justified  by  any  strength  or  merits 
of  his  own,  and  not  by  faith,  puts  himself  in  the  pla^.e  of  God." 

"Jesus  Christ,  who  is  head  over  all  things,  is  our  polar 
star,  and  the  only  guide  we  ought  to  follow."* 

Thus  did  this  native  of  France  stand  up  at  Basle.f  A  child 
of  the  mountains  of  Dauphiny,  brought  up  at  Paris,  at  the 
feet  of  Lefevre,  thus  boldly  proclaimed  in  the  celebrated  Swiss 
University,  and  in  presence  of  Erasmus,  the  great  principles 
of  the  Reformation.  Two  leading  ideas  pervaded  Farel's 
theses, — the  one  involved  a  return  to  the  Scripture,  the  other 
a  return  to  the  Faith, — two  movements  distinctly  condemned 
by  the  Papacy  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  as 
heretical  and  impious,  in  the  celebrated  constitution  Unigenitus, 
and  which,  ever  closely  connected  with  each  other,  in  reality 
overturn  the  whole  of  the  Papal  system.  If  Faith  in  Christ 
is  the  beginning  and  end  of  Christianity,  the  word  of  Christ, 
and  not  the  voice  of  the  Church  is  that  to  which  we  must 
adhere.  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  if  Faith  unites  in  one  the  souls 
of  believers,  what  signifies  an  external  bond?  Can  that  holy 
union  depend  for  its  existence  on  croziers,  bulls,  or  tiaras'? 
Faith  knits  together  in  spiritual  and  true  oneness  all  those  in 
whose  hearts  it  has  taken  up  its  abode.  Thus  at  one  blow 
disappeared  the  triple  delusion  of  human  deservings,  traditions 
of  men,  and  simulated  unity.  And  these  compose  the  sum  of 
Roman  Catholicism. 

The  discussion  was  opened  in  Latin.  J     Farel  and  CEco- 

♦  Guilelmus  Farellus  Christianis  lectoribus,  die  Martis  post  Reminis- 
cere.     (Fussli  Beytr.  iv.  p.  247.)     Fussli  does  not  give  the  Latin  text, 
t  Schedam  conclusionum  a  Gallo  illo.     (Zw.  Epp.  p.  333.) 
J  Schedam  conclusionum  latine  apud  nos  disputatara.     (Ibid.) 
VOL.  III.  37 


434  THE  REFORMATION  DEFENDED. 

lampadius  st^d  and  establish  d  their  articles,  calling  repeat- 
edly upon  those  who  differed  from  them  to  make  answer ;  but 
none  answered  to  the  call.  The  sophists,  as  QEcolampadius 
terms  them,  boldly  denied  them, — but  from  their  skulking 
corners.*  The  people  therefore  began  to  look  with  contempt 
upon  the  cowardice  of  their  priests,  and  learned  to  despise 
their  tyranny.j 

Thus  did  I'arel  take  his  stand  among  the  defenders  of  the 
Reformation.  So  much  learning  and  piety  rejoiced  the  hearts 
of  observers,  and  already  more  signal  victories  were  looked 
forward  to. — "  He  is  singly  more  than  a  match  for  all  the 
Sorbonne  put  together," |  said  they.  His  openness,  sincerity, 
and  candour,  charmed  all.^  But  in  the  very  height  of  his 
activity  he  did  not  forget  that  every  mission  must  begin  at  our 
own  souls.  The  mild  GEcolampadius  made  with  the  earnest 
hearted  Farel  an  agreement,  by  which  they  mutually  engaged 
to  exercise  themselves  in  humility  and  gentleness  in  their 
familiar  intercourse.  Thus  on  the  very  field  of  contention 
were  these  courageous  men  engaged  in  composing  their  souls 
to  peace. — The  impetuous  zeal  of  Luther  and  of  Farel  were 
not  unfrequently  necessary  virtues;  for  a  degree  of  effort  is 
required  to  move  society  and  recast  the  Church.  In  our  days 
we  are  very  apt  to  forget  this  truth,  which  then  was  acknow- 
ledged by  men  of  the  mildest  character.  "Some  there  are," 
said  GEcolampadius  to  Luther,  in  introducing  Farel  to  him, 
"  who  would  moderate  his  zeal  against  the  opposers  of  the 
truth ;  but  I  cannot  help  discerning  in  that  same  zeal  a  won- 
derful virtue,  and  which,  if  but  well  directed,  is  not  less  needed 
than  gentlenej-s  itself"||  Posterity  has  ratified  the  judgment 
of  GEcolampadius. 

*  Agunt  tamen  magnos  interim  thrasones,  sed  in  angulis  lucifugae. 
(Zw.  Epp.  p.  333.) 

t  Incipit  tamen  plebs  paulatim  illorum  ignaviam  et  tyrannidem  verbo 
Dei  a^noscere.     (Ibid.) 

t  Ad  totam  Sorbonicam  affligendam  si  non  et  perdendam.  (QHcol.  Lu- 
thero,  Epp.  p.  200  ) 

§  Farello  nihil  candidius  est.     (Ibid.) 

n  Verum  ego  virtutem  illam  admirabilem  et  non  minus  placiditate,  si 
tempestive  fuerit,  necessariam.     (Ibid.) 


VISITS    STRASBURG.  435 

In  the  month  of  May,  1524,  Farel,  with  some  friends  from 
Lyons,  repaired  to  Schaff hausen,  Zurich,  and  Constance. 
Zwingle  and  Myconius  welcomed  with  the  liveliest  joy  the 
French  refugee,  and  Farel  never  forgot  the  kindness  of  that 
welcome.  But  on  his  return  to  Basle  he  found  Erasmus  and 
others  of  his  enemies  at  work,  and  received  an  order  to  quit 
the  city.  His  friends  loudly  expressed  their  displeasure  at  this 
stretch  of  authority — but  in  vain,  and  he  was  driven  from  that 
Swiss  territory  which  was  even  then  regarded  as  an  asylum 
for  signal  misfortunes. — "  Such  is  our  hospitality  !"  ejaculated 
OHcolampadius  in  indignation:  "We  are  a  people  like  unto 
Sodom."* 

At  Basle  Farel  had  contracted  a  close  friendship  with  the 
knight  D'Esch — the  latter  resolved  to  bear  him  company,  and 
they  set  forth,  provided  by  CEcolanipadius  with  letters  for 
Capito  and  Luther,  to  whom  the  doctor  of  Basle  commended 
Farel  as  the  same  William  who  had  laboured  so  abundantly 
in  the  work  of  God.f  At  Strasburg  Farel  formed  an  inti- 
macy with  Capito,  Bucer,  and  Hedio — but  we  have  no  ac- 
count of  his  having  gone  to  Wittemberg, 

When  God  withdraws  his  servants  from  the  field  of  com- 
bat, it  is  commonly  that  they  may  be  again  brought  forward 
in  increased  strength  and  more  completely  armed,  for  the  con- 
flict. Farel  and  his  companions  from  Meaux,  from  Metz, 
from  Lyons,  and  from  Dauphiny,  driven  by  persecution  from 
France,  had  been  tempered  with  new  firmness  in  Switzerland 
and  in  Germany,  in  the  society  of  the  earlier  Reformers  ;  and 
now,  like  soldiers  scattered  by  the  first  charge  of  the  enemy, 
but  instantly  collecting  again  their  force,  they  were  about  to 
turn  round  and  go  forward  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Not 
only  on  the  frontiers,  but  in  the  interior  of  France,  the  friends 
of  the  Gospel  were  beginning  to  take  courage.  The  signal 
was  made — the  combatants  were  arming  for  the  assault^-the 

*  Adeo  hospitum  habemu.s  rationem,  veri  Sodoinitse.  (Zw.  Epp. 
p.  434.) 

t  Gulielmus  ijie  qui  tan)  probe  navavit  operani.  (Zvv.  et  CEcol.  Epp 
p.  175.) 


436  ORDINATION    OF    FAKEL. 

word  was  given.  "  Jesus,  his  truth  and  grace" — a  word  of 
more  power  than  the  clang  of  arms  in  the  tug  of  war,  filled  all 
hearts  with  enthusiasm,  and  all  gave  omen  of  a  campaign  preg- 
nant with  new  victories  and  new  and  more  wide-spreading 
calamities. 

Montbeliard  at  this  time  stood  in  need  of  a  labourer  in  the 
Gospel.  Duke  Ulric  of  Wurtemberg — young,  impetuous, 
and  cruel — having  been  dispossessed  of  his  hereditary  states 
in  15  i9  by  the  Suabian  league,  had  retired  to  that  province, 
his  last  remaining  possession.  In  Switzerland  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  Reformers.  His  misfortunes  had  a  whole- 
some effect,  and  he  listened  to  the  truth.*  CEcolampadius  ap- 
prized Farel  that  a  door  was  opened  at  Montbeliard,  and  the 
latter  secretly  repaired  to  Basle. 

Farel  had  not  regularly  entered  on  the  ministry  of  the 
word  ;  but  at  this  period  of  his  life  we  see  in  him  all  the  quali- 
fications of  a  servant  of  the  Lord.  It  was  not  lightly  or  rashly 
that  he  entered  the  service  of  the  Church. — "  If  I  considered 
my  own  qualifications,"  said  he,  "  I  would  not  have  presumed 
to  preach,  but  would  have  preferred  to  wait  till  the  Lord 
should  send  more  gifted  persons."!  But  he  received  at  this 
time  three  several  calls.  No  sooner  had  he  reached  Basle 
than  CEcolampadius,  moved  by  the  wants  of  France,  besought 
him^to  give  himself  to  the  work  there.  "  Consider,"  said  he, 
^'  how  little  Jesus  is  made  known  in  their  language — will  you 
not  teach  them  a  little  in  their  own  dialect,  to  enable  them  to 
understand  the  Scriptures."^  At  the  same  time  the  inhabit- 
ants of  Montbeliard  invited  him  among  them,  and  lastly,  the 
prince  of  that  country  gave  his  assent  to  the  invitation.^  Was 
not  this  a  thrice  repeated  call  from  God  ?  .  .  '•  I  did  not  see," 
said  he,  "  how  I  could  refuse  to  act  upon  it.  }|     It  was  in  obe- 

♦  Le  prince  qui  avoit  cognoissance  de  I'Evangile.  (Farel.  Summaire.) 
t  Summaire  c'est  a  dire,  brieve  declaration  de  G.  Farel,  dans  I'epilogue, 
t  Ibid. 

§  Etant  requis  et  demande  du  peuple  et  du  consentement  du  prince. 
(Ibid.) 

il  Summaire,  e'est  a  dire,  brieve  declaration  de  G.  Farel,  dans  I'epilogues 


APOSTOLICAL    SUCCESSION.  437 

dience  to  God  that  I  complied  with  it."  Concealed  in  the 
house  of  CEcolampadius,  little  disposed  to  take  the  responsible 
post  offered  to  him,  and  yet  constrained  to  yield  to  so  manifest 
an  indication  of  God's  will,  Farel  undertook  the  task — and 
G^colampadius,  calling  upon  the  Lord,  ordained  him,*  giving 
him  at  the  same  time  some  wise  counsels. — "  The  more  you 
find  yourselves  inclined  to  vehemence,"  said  he,  "  the  more 
must  you  exercise  yourself  to  maintain  a  gentle  bearing; — 
temper  your  lion  heart  with  (he  softness  of  the  dove."t  The 
soul  of  Farel  responded  to  such  an  appeal. 

Thus  Farel,-^once  the  devoted  adherent  of  the  ancient 
Church, — was  about  to  enter  on  the  life  of  a  servant  of  God, 
and  of  the  Church  in  its  renewed  youth.  If,  in  order  to  a 
valid  ordination,  Rome  requires  the  imposition  of  the  hands 
of  a  bishop  deriving  uninterrupted  succession  and  descent  from 
the  Apostles,  she  does  so — because  she  sets  the  tradition  of 
men  above  the  authority  of  the  word  of  God.  Every  church 
in  which  the  supremacy  of  the  Word  is  not  acknowledged, 
must  needs  seek  authority  from  some  other  source ; — and  then, 
what  more  natural  than  to  turn  to  the  most  revered  servants 
of  God,  and  ask  of  them  what  we  do  not  know  that  we  have 
in  God  himself?  If  we  do  not  speak  in  th".  name  of  Jesus 
Christy  is  it  not  at  least  something  gained  to  be  able  to  speak 
in  the  name  of  St.  John  or  of  St.  Paul  ?  One  who  has  with 
him  the  voice  of  antiquity  is  indeed  more  than  a  match  for  the 
rationalist,  who  speaks  only  his  own  thought.  But  Christ's 
minister  has  a  yet  higher  authority.  He  preaches, — not  be- 
cause he  is  the  successor  of  St.  Chrysostom  or  St.  Peter, — but 
because  the  Word  which  he  proclaims  is  from  God.  Succes- 
sipnal  authority, — venerable  as  it  may  appear,- — is  yet  no  more 
than  a  thing  of  man's  invention,  in  place  of  God's  appoint- 
ment. In  Farel's  ordination,  we  see  nothing  of  successionally 
derived  sanction.     Nay  more,  we  do  not  s -e  in  it  that  which 

*  Avec  I'invocation  du  nom  de  Dieu.     (;bid.) 

t  Leoninam  magnanimitatem  columbina  modestia  frangas.  (CEcol. 
Epp.  p.  198.) 

37* 


438  FAREL    AT    MONTBELIARD. 

becomes  the  congregations  of  the  Lord, — among  whom  every- 
thing- should  be  done  "  decently  and  in  order,^^  and  whose 
God  is  '■^not  the  God  of  confusion^  In  his  case  there  was 
no  setting  apart  by  the  Church  ;  but  then  extraordinary  emer- 
gencies justify  extraordinary  measures.  At  this  eventful  pe- 
riod, God  himself  was  interposing,  and  Himself  ordaining,  by 
marvellous  dispensations,  those  whom  he  called  to  bear  apart 
in  the  regeneration  of  society  ;  and  that  was  an  ordination 
that  abundantly  compensated  for  the  absence  of  the  Church's 
seal.  In  Farel's  ordination  we  see  the  unchanging  word  of 
God,  entrusted  to  a  man  of  God,  to  bear  it  to  the  world ; — the 
calling  of  God,  and  of  the  people,  and  the  consecration  of  the 
heart. — And  perhap5;  no  minister  of  Rome  or  of  Geneva  was 
ever  more  lawfully  ordained  for  that  holy  ministry.  Farel 
took  his  departure  for  Montbeliard,  in  company  with  the 
knight  D'Esch. 

Thus  did  Farel  find  himself  occupying  an  advanced  post. 
Behind  him  were  Basle  and  Strasburg,  assisting  him  by  their 
advice  and  by  the  productions  of  their  printing  presses.  Be- 
fore him  lay  the  provinces  of  Franchecomte,  Burgundy,  Lor- 
raine, Lyons,  and  orher  districts  of  France ;  wherein  men  of 
God  were  beginning  to  stand  up  against  error,  in  the  thick 
darkness.  He  set  himself  immediately  to  preach  Christ, — 
exhorting  believers  not  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  turned  aside 
frotn  the  Holy  Scriptures,  either  by  threatenings  or  artifice. 
Taking  the  part  long  afterwards  taken  by  Calvin  on  a  grander 
scale,  Farel,  at  Montbeliard,  was  like  a  general  stationed  on 
a  height,  surveying,  with  searching  vigilance,  the  field  of 
battle,  cheering  those  who  were  actively  engaged,  rallying 
those  whom  the  enemy's  charge  had  forced  to  give  way,  ^fid 
by  his  courage  animating  those  who  hung  back.*  Erasmus 
wrote  directly  to  his  Roman  Catholic  friends,  informing  them 

*  The  comparison  is  in  the  words  of  a  friend  who  was  acquainted  with 
Farel,  during  his  abode  at  Montbeliard : — Strenuum  et  oculatum  impera- 
torem,  qui  iis  etiam  animum  facias  qui  in  acie  versantur.  (Tossanus 
Farello,  MS.  de  Neufchatel,  2d  Sept.  1524.) 


THE    GOSPEL    AT    LYONS.  439 

that  a  Frenchman,  escaped  out  of  France,  was  making  a  great 
noise  in  these  regions.* 

The  efforts  of  Fare!  were  not  without  effect.  People  wrote 
to  him:  "  On  all  sides  seem  to  multiply  men  who  devote  their 
lives  to  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom. "f  The  friends  of 
the  Gospel  gave  thanks  to  God  for  the  daily  increasing^ 
brilliancy  in  which  the  Gospel  shone  in  France. |  Gainsay- 
ers  were  confounded,  and  Erasmus,  writing  to  the  bishop  of 
Rochester,  observed, — "The  faction  is  every  day  spreading", 
and  has  penetrated  into  Savoy,  Lorraine,  and  France." ^i 

For  a  considerable  time  Lyons  seemed  the  centre  of  the 
Evangelic  movement  in  the  interior,  as  Basle  was  of  that 
beyond  the  frontiers.  Francis  the  First,  called  to  the  south, 
on  an  expedition  against  Charles  V.,  arrived  in  those  countries, 
attended  by  his  mother  and  sister,  and  by  his  court.  Margaret 
had  with  her,  in  her  company,  certain  men  who  had  embraced 
the  Gospel.  "  The  rest  of  her  people  she  left  behind," 
remarks  a  letter  written  at  the  time.  ||  Whilst  under  the  eyes 
of  Francis,  14,000  Swiss,  6,000  Frenchmen,  and  1,500  noble 
knights,  were  defiling  through  Lyons,  on  their  way  to  repel 
the  Imperial  army  that  had  invaded  Provence,  and  that  great 
city  resounded  with  the  clang  of  arms,  the  tramp  of  cavalry, 
and  the  sound  of  trumpets. — the  friends  of  the  Gospel  were  on 
their  way  to  the  more  peaceful  triumphs.  They  were  intent 
on  attempting,  at  Lyons,  what  they  had  not  been  able  to 
realize  at  Paris.  Remote  from  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Parlia- 
ment, a  freer  course  might  be  open  to  God's  word.  Perhaps 
the  second  city  of  the  kingdom  was  destined  to  be  the  first 

*  .  .  .  .  Tumultuatur  et  Burgundia  nobis  proxima,  per  Phalucum 
quemdam  Galium  qui  e  Gallia  profugus.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  809.) 

t  Suppullulare  qui  omnes  conatus  adferant,  quo  possit  Christi  regnnm 
quam  latissime  patere.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel,  2d  Aug.  1524.) 

X  Gluod  in  Galliis  omnibus  sacrossanctum  Dei  verbum  in  dies  magis 
ac  magis  elucescat.     (Ibid.) 

§  Factio  crescit  in  dies  latius,  propagata  in  Sabaudiam,  Lothoringiam, 
Franciam.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  809.) 

II  De  Sebville  a  Coct  du  28th  Dec.  1524.  (MS.  du  Conclave  de  Neuf- 
chatel.) 


440  ANTHONY    PAPILLON. 

wherein  the  Gospel  should  be  received.  Was  it  not  there 
that  the  excellt-m  Peter  Waldo  had  begun  to  make  known  the 
divine  Word?  In  that  earlier  age  he  had  roused  the  national 
mind.  Now  that  God  had  made  all  things  ready  to  emanci- 
pate His  church,  was  there  not  ground  to  hope  for  more 
extensive  and  decisive  results?  Accordingly  the  Lyonese,  who 
in  general  were  not,  it  must  be  confessed,  '  poor  men,'  began 
to  handle,  with  more  confidence,  the  "sword  of  the  Spirit 
which  is  the  word  of  God." 

Among  those  about  Margaret's  person,  was  her  almoner, 
Michel  d'Arande.  The  Duchess  gave  direction  that  the 
Gospel  should  be  publicly  preached  in  Lyons,  and  master 
Michel  boldly  proclaimed  the  pure  word  of  God  to  a  numerous 
auditory, — attracted  partly  by  the  good  tidings,  and  partly  by 
the  favour  with  which  the  preacher  and  his  preaching  were 
regarded  by  the  sister  of  their  king.* 

Anthony  Papillon,  a  man  of  cultivated  mind,  an  accom- 
plished Laiinist,  a  friend  of  Erasmus,  the  earliest  of  his  coun- 
trymen thoroughly  instructed  in  the  Gospel, f  accompanied  the 
Princess.  At  Margaret's  request  he  had  translated  Luther's 
tract  on  the  monks'  vows,  "on  which  account  he  was  often 
called  in  question  by  that  vermin  of  the  city  of  Paris,"  remarks 
Sebville.:j:  But  Margaret  had  protected  the  scholar  from  the 
enmity  of  the  Sorbonne,  and  had  obtained  for  him  the  appoint- 
ment of  chief  master  of  requests  to  the  Dauphin,  with  a  seat  in 
the  council.^  He  was  almost  equally  useful  to  the  Gospel  by 
the  sacrifices  he  made  for  its  cause  as  by  his  great  prudence. 
Vaugris,  a  merchant,  and  Anthony  Du  Blet,  a  gentleman,  and 
a  friend  of  Farel,  were  the  principal  persons  who  took  part 
with  the  Reformation  at  Lyons.  The  latter,  whose  activity 
was  untiring,  served  as  a  sort  of  connecting  link  between  the 
Christians  scattered  throughout  those  countries,  and  was  the 

*  Elle  a  une  docteur  de  Paris  appele  maitre  Michel  Eleymosinarius. 
lequel  ne  preche  devant  elle  que  purement  I'Evangile.  (Sebville  a  Coct 
MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Ibid.  t  Ibid. 

J  Ibid. 


SEBVILLE    PERSECUTED.  441 

medium  of  their  intercourse  with  Basle.  The  armed  bands 
of  Francis  the  First  had  done  no  more  than  traverse  Lyons, 
whilst  the  spiritual  soldiery  of  Jesus  Christ  had  paused  with- 
in it,  and  leaving  the  former  to  carry  war  into  Provence, 
they  commenced  the  '  fight  of  faith'  in  the  city  of  Lyons  it- 
self 

But  their  efforts  were  not  confined  to  Lyons.  Casting  their 
eyes  over  the  surrounding  country,  their  operations  were 
carried  on,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  at  different  points ;  and 
the  Christians  of  Lyons  supported  and  encouraged  the  confes- 
sors of  Christ  in  the  adjacent  provinces,  and  bore  His  name 
where  as  yet  it  was  not  known.  The  new  teaching  re- 
ascended  the  banks  of  the  Saone,  and  the  voice  of  one  "bring- 
ing the  glad  tidings"  was  heard  in  the  narrow  and  irregular 
streets  of  Macon.  Michel  d' Arande,  the  almoner  of  the  king's 
sister,  himself  visited  that  place  in  1524,  and,  by  Margaret's 
intercession,  obtained  license  to  preach  in  a  town*  which  was 
afterwards  deluged  with  blood,  and  became  for  ever  memorable 
for  its  sauferies. 

After  extending  their  travels  in  the  direction  of  the  Saone, 
the  Christians  of  Lyons,  ever  looking  for  an  open  door,  re- 
ascended  the  acclivities  of  the  Alps.  There  was,  at  Lyons,  a 
Dominican  named  Maigret,  who  had  been  expelled  from 
Dauphiny,  where  he  had  preached  the  new  doctrine  with 
singular  boldness,  and  who  earnestly  requested  that  some  one 
would  go  over  and  help  his  brethren  of  Grenoble  and  Gap- 
Papillon  and  Du  Blet  repaired  thither. f  A  violent  storm  had 
just  broken  out  there  against  Sebville  and  his  preaching.  The 
Dominicans  moved  heaven  and  earth,  and,  in  their  rage  at  the 
escape  of  Farel,  Anemond,  Maigret,  and  the  other  preachers, 

*  Arandius  preche  a  Mascon.  (Coct  a  Farel,  Dec.  1524,  MS.  de 
Neufchatel.) 

t  II  y  a  eu  deux  grands  personages  a  Grenoble.  (Coct  a  Farel,  Dec. 
1524,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.)  The  title  Mrssire  is  given  to  Du  Blet,  indi- 
cating a  person  of  rank.  I  incline  to  think  that  that  of  negotiatar,  else- 
where given  hhn,  refers  to  his  activity :  yet  he  might  be  a  merchant  of 
Lvons. 


442  SECRET    MEETINGS    AT    GRENOBLE. 

sought  to  crush  such  as  were  within  their  clutches.*     They, 
therefore  insisted  that  Sebville  should  be  arrested. f 

The  friends  of  the  Gospel  at  Grenoble  caught  the  alarm. 
Was  Sebville,  also,  on  the  eve  of  being  lost  to  them  7  Mar- 
garet interceded  with  her  brother.  Some  persons  of  distinction 
at  Grenoble,  including  the  king's  advocate,  either  secretly  or 
avowedly  favourable  to  the  Gospel,  exerted  themselves  in  his 
behalf;  and  he  was  happily  rescued  from  the  fury  of  his 
enemies.^ 

His  life  indeed  was  saved  but  his  mouth  was  stopped.  "Re- 
main silentj"  said  his  friends,  "  or  you  will  be  brought  to  the 
scaffold."  "  Only  think  what  it  is,"  wrote  he  to  De  Coct, 
"to  have  silence  imposed  upon  me,  under  pain  of  death." § 
Some,  whose  firmness  had  been  most  relied  on,  were  over- 
awed by  these  threatenings.  The  king's  advocate,  and  others, 
exhibited  marked  coldness,  ||  and  many  returned  to  the  Roman 
Catholic  communion,  alleging  that  they  would  still  offer  to 
God  a  spiritual  worship  in  the  privacy  of  their  hearts,  and 
give  to  the  outward  observances  of  Catholicism  a  spiritual  in- 
terpretation : — a  melancholy  snare,  and  one  that  leads  men 
from  one  act  of  unfaithfulness  to  another.  There  is  no  false 
system  adhesion  to  which  may  not  in  this  way  be  justified. 
The  unbeliever,  taking  up  with  fancied  myths  and  allegories, 
will  preach  Christ  from  the  pulpit: — and  the  follower  of  a 
superstition  held  in  abhorrence  among  the  heathen,  will,  by  a 
moderate  exercise  of  ingenuity,  trace  in  it  the  symbol  of  a 
pure  and  elevated  thought.  In  religion  the  very  first  essential 
is  truth.  There  were,  however,  some  of  the  Christians  of 
Grenoble,  and  among  them  Amedee  Galbert  and  a  cousin  of 

*  Conjicere  potes  ut  post  Macretum  et  me  in  Sebivillam  exarserint. 
(Anemond  a  Farel,  7th  Sept.  1524,  MS,  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Les  Thomistes  ont  voulu  proceder  centre  moi  par  inquisition  et  cap- 
tion de  personne.     (Lettre  de  Sebville.     Ibid.) 

t  Si  ce  ne  fut  certains  amis  secrets,  je  estois  mis  entre  les  mains  des 
Pharisiens.     (Lettre  de  Sebville,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

§  Ibid. 

II  Non  solum  tepedi  sed  frigidi,    (MS.  de  Neufchatel) 


EFFECTS  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  PAVIA.        443 

Anemond,  who  held  fast  to  their  faith.*  These  men  of  piety- 
were  accustomed  secretly  to  meet  together  with  Sebville  at 
each  other's  houses,  and  thus  "  spake  often  one  to  another." 
Their  place  of  meeting  was  chosen  for  the  sake  of  its  retire- 
ment;  they  met  at  night  in  the  apartment  of  a  brother,  With 
closed  doors,  to  pray  to  Christ, — as  if  they  had  been  robbers 
meeting  for  some  guilty  purpose !  Rumour  would  often  fol- 
low them  to  their  humble  meeting  with  some  groundless 
alarm.  Their  enemies  winked  at  such  secret  conventicles, 
but  they  had  inwardly  doomed  to  the  stake  any  one  who 
should  venture  to  open  his  lips  in  public  to  speak  the  word 
of  God.  t 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Du  Blet  and  Papillon  arrived  in 
Grenoble.  Finding  that  Sebville  had  been  silenced,  they 
exhorted  him  to  go  to  Lyons,  and  there  preach  Christ.  The 
following  Lent  promised  to  afford  him  the  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  a  vast  crowd  of  hearers.  Michel  d'Arande,  Maigret, 
and  Sebville  agreed  together  to  put  themselves  in  front  of  the 
battle,  and  thus  all  was  arranged  for  an  impressive  testimony 
to  the  truth  in  the  second  city  of  the  kingdom.  The  rumour 
of  the  approaching  Lent  spread  into  Switzerland  :  "Sebville 
is  at  large,  and  is  purposing  to  preach  at  Lyons,  in  the 
church  of  St.  Paul,"  wrote  Anemond  to  Farel.J  But  dis- 
ast-^rs,  bringing  with  them  confusion  throughout  France,  in- 
ter'^ened,  and  prevented  the  spiritual  contest.  It  is  in  periods 
of  tranquillity  that  the  Gospel  achieves  its  blessed  conquests. 
The  battle  of  Pavia,  which  took  place  in  the  month  of  Febru- 
ary, disconcerted  the  bold  project  of  the  Reformers. 

Meanwhile,  without  waiting  for  Sebville,  Maigret,  amidst 
much  opposition  from  the  clergy  and  the  monks,^  had  from 
the  beginning  of  the  winter  been  preaching  at  Lyons,  Sal- 

*  Tuo  cognato,  Amedeo  Galberto  exceptis.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 
t  Mais  de  en  parler  publiquement,  il  n'y  pend  que  le  feu.     (MS.  de 

Neufchatel.) 

t  Le  f  amedi  des  duatre-Temps.     (Dec.  1524,  ibid.) 

§  Pour  vray  Maigret  a  preche  a  Lion,  maulgre  les  pretres  et  moines. 

(Ibid.) 


444  SEAL    AND    ARREST    OF    MAIGRET. 

vation  "by  Christ  alone.  In  his  sermons,  he  passed  over  the 
worship  of  the  creature, — the  saints, — the  Virgin, — and  the 
power  of  the  priesthood.  The  great  mystery  of  Godliness, — 
'•  God  manifest  in  the  flesh," — was  the  one  great  doctrine  ex- 
alted by  him.  "  The  early  heresies  of  the  poor  men  of  Lyons 
were  again  showing  themselves  under  a  more  dangerous  form 
than  ever,"  it  was  remarked.  In  spite  of  oppose rs,  Maigret 
continued  his  preaching :  the  faith  that  animated  him  found 
utterance  in  emphatic  words;  it  is  in  the  very  nature  of 
Truth  to  embolden  the  heart  that  receives  it.  Nevertheless, 
it  was  decreed  that  at  Lyons,  as  at  Grenoble,  Rome  should  get 
the  upper  hand.  Under  the  very  eyes  of  Margaret,  the 
preacher  was  arrested,  dragged  through  the  streets,  and  com- 
mitted to  prison.  Vaugris,  a  merchant  who  was  just  then 
leaving  the  town  on  his  way  to  Switzerland,  carried  with  him 
the  news  of  what  had  happened.  One  thought  cheered  the 
melancholy  these  tidings  diffused  among  the  friends  of  the  Re- 
formation,— "  Maigret  is  seized,"  said  they,  "but  thanks  be  to 
God,  Madame  d! Alencon  is  on  the  spot.''* 

Their  hopes  soon  left  them.  The  Sorbonne  had  formally 
condemned  certain  propositions  maintained  by  the  faithful 
preacher  ;t  Margaret,  whose  position  was  every  day  becom- 
ing more  embarrassing,  beheld  the  daring  of  the  Reformers, 
and  the  hatred  of  those  in  power  both  rising  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. Francis  t!:c  First  was  beginning  to  lose  patience  at  the 
restless  zeal  of  the  preachers,  and  to  regard  them  as  fanatics 
whom  it  was  good  policy  to  reduce  to  submission.  Margaret, 
therefore,  fluctuating  between  her  desires  to  serve  her  brethren 
in  Christ,  and  the  failure  of  her  ability  to  preserve  them,  sent 
them  word  that  they  were  to  abstain  from  rushing  into  new 
difficulties,  seeing  that  she  could  not  again  make  application 
to  the  king  in  their  behalf  The  friends  of  the  Gospel  be- 
lieved that  this  resolution  could  not  be  irrevocable :  "  God  give 
her  grace,"  said  they  "to  say  and  write  only  what  is  needful 

♦  MS.  de  Neufchatel. 

t  Histoire  de  Francois  I.  par  Gaillard,  torn.  iv.  p.  233. 


THE    EVANGELICAL    ASSOCIATION.  445 

to  poor  souls.'"*  But  even  if  they  should  lose  this  help  of 
man,  Christ  was  with  them, — and  it  seemed  well  that  the  soul 
should  be  stripped  of  other  dependence,  that  it  might  lean  upon 
God  alone. 

The  friends  of  the  Gospel  had  lost  their  power,  and  the 
powerful  were  declaring  against  it.  Margaret  was  alarmed. 
Soon — heavy  news,  received  from  beyond  the  Alps,  was  to 
plunge  the  whole  kingdom  into  mourning, — absorbing  atten- 
tion in  the  one  object  of  saving  France  and  her  king.  But  if 
the  Christians  of  Lyons  were  motionless,  did  not  Basle  contain 
within  its  walls  soldiers  escaped  from  the  battle,  and  ready  to 
renew  it?  The  exiles  from  France  have  never  forgotten  her: 
banished  for  three  centuries  by  Roman  fanaticism,  we  see 
their  last  descendants  carrying  to  the  towns  and  plains  of  their 
father-land,  the  treasure  of  which  the  Pope  deprives  them.  At 
the  crisis,  when  the  good  soldiers  of  Christ  in  France  deject- 
edly threw  away  their  arms,  we  see  the  refugees  at  Basle,  pre- 
paring for  renewed  efforts.  With  the  example  before  their 
eyes  of  the  sceptre  of  St.  Louis  and  of  Charlemagne  falling 
from  the  grasp  of  a  Francis  the  First,  should  they  not  be 
incited  to  lay  hold  on  a  "  kingdom  which  cannot  be 
moved?"! 

Farel,  Anemond,  Esch,  Toussaint,  and  their  friends  in 
Switzerland,  composed  an  Evangelical  Association,  having 
for  its  object  the  deliverance  of  their  country  from  spiritual 
darkness.  Intelligence  reached  them  from  all  sides,  that  there 
was  an  increasing  thirst  after  God's  word  in  France  ;J  it  was 
desirable  to  take  advantage  of  it,  and  to  water  and  sow  the 
seed  while  yet  it  was  seed  time.  OEcolampadius,  Oswald 
Myconius,  and  Zwingle,  continually  encouraged  them  to  this. 
The  Swiss  teacher,  Myconius,  wrote  thus  in  January,  1525, 
to  De  Coct :  "  Exiled  as  you  are  from  your  country  by  the 
tyranny  of  Antichrist,  your  presence  amongst  us  is  the  proof 

*  Pierre  Touissant  a  Farcl,  Basle  17  Dec.  1534.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 
t  Heb.  xii.  28. 

♦  Gallis  verborum  Dei  sitientibus.  (Coctus  Farello,  2  Sep.  1524,  MS. 
de  Neufchatel.) 

VOL.  III.  38 


446  NEED    OF    UNITY. 

that  you  have  courageously  stood  forth  in  the  cause  of  Truth. 
The  oppressions  of  Christian  Bishops  will  lead  the  people  to 
regard  them  as  no  better  than  deceivers.  Stand  fast ;  the  time 
is  not  distant  when  we  shall  arrive  in  the  wished  for  haven, 
whether  we  be  struck  down  by  the  oppressors,  or  they  them- 
selves be  cast  down,*  and  all  will  then  be  well  with  us,  if  we 
do  but  continue  faithful  to  Jesus  Christ." 

These  cheering  words  were  precious  indeed  to  the  French 
refugees ; — but  just  then,  a  blow  struck  by  those  very  Chris- 
tians of  Switzerland,  and  of  Germany,  who  sought  to  cheer 
them,  carried  grief  to  their  hearts.  In  the  feeling  of  their  re- 
cent escape  from  the  fires  of  persecution,  they,  at  this  time,  be- 
held w^ith  dismay  the  Evangelical  Christians  beyond  the 
Rhine  disturbing  their  repose  by  their  deplorable  differences. 
The  controversy,  in  relation  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  had  begun. 
Deeply  affected,  and  feeling  the  need  of  mutual  love,  the  French 
Reformers  would  have  made  any  sacrifice  to  conciliate  the 
divergent  parties.  It  became  the  great  object  of  their  desire. 
None  more  than  they  felt  from  the  outset  the  need  of  Chris- 
tian unity.  At  a  later  period,  Calvin  afforded  proof  of  this. 
"  Would  to  God,"  said  Peter  Toussaint,  "  that,  by  my  worth- 
less blood,  I  could  purchase  peace,  concord,  and  union  in 
Christ  Jesus."f  The  French,  gifted  with  quick  discernment, 
saw,  from  the  very  beginning,  how  the  rising  dissensions 
would  stand  in  the  way  of  the  Reformation.  "  All  would  go 
favourably  beyond  our  hopes,  if  we  were  but  agreed  among 
ourselves.  Many  there  are  who  would  gladly  come  to  the 
light,  but  they  are  prevented  by  seeing  such  divisions  among 
the  learned."! 

\  The  French  were  the  first  to  suggest  conciliatory  advances : 
"  Why,"  wrote  they  from  Strasburg,  "  why  not  send  Bucer 
or  some  other  man  of  learning  to  confer  with  Luther  ?     The 

♦  Non  longe  abest  enim,  quo  in  portum  tranquillum  pervenlimus  .  .  . 
(Oswald  Myconius  a  Anemond  de  Coct.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 
t  21st  December,  1525.     (MS.  du  Conclave  de  Neufchatel.) 
X  Ibid. 


CHRISTIAN    PATRIOTISM.  447 

more  we  delay  the  wider  will  our  differences  become."  These 
fears  seemed  every  day  more  founded.* 

Failing  in  their  endeavours,  these  Christians  turned  their 
eyes  towards  France,  and  the  conversion  of  their  own  country 
to  the  faith  thenceforth  exclusively  engaged  the  hearts  of  these 
generous  men,  whom  history, — so  loud  in  praise  of  men  who 
have  sought  only  their  own  glory. — has,  for  three  centuries, 
scarcely  mentioned.  Cast  upon  a  foreign  soil,  they  threw 
themselves  on  their  knees,  and,  daily  in  their  solitude,  called 
down  blessings  from  God  upon  their  fatherland. f  Prayer 
was  the  great  instrument  by  which  the  Gospel  spread  through 
the  kingdom,  and  the  great  engine  by  which  the  conquests  of 
the  Reformation  wer.-  achieved. 

But  there  were  other  men  of  prayer  beside  these.  Never, 
perhaps,  have  the  ranks  of  the  Gospel  comprised  combatants 
more  prompt  to  suffer  in  the  hour  of  conflict.  They  felt  the 
importance  of  scattering  the  Scriptures  and  pious  writings  in 
their  country,  which  was  still  overclouded  with  the  thick 
darkness  of  superstition.  A  spirit  of  enquiry  was  dawning  in 
their  nation,  and  it  seemed  necessary  on  all  sides  to  unfurl  the 
sails  to  the  wind.  Anemond,  ever  prompt  in  action,  and 
Michel  Dentin,  another  refugee,  resolved  to  employ,  in  con- 
cert, their  zeal  and  talents.  Bentin  decided  to  establish  a 
printing  press  at  Balse,  and  the  knight  to  turn  to  account  the 
little  he  knew  of  German,  by  translating  into  that  language 
the  more  striking  tracts  written  by  the  Reformers.  "  Oh  !" 
exclaimed  they,  rejoicing  in  their  project ;  "  would  to  God 
that  France  were  so  supplied  with  Gospel  writings  that  in 
cottages,  and  in  palaces,  in  cloisters,  and  in  presbyteries,  and 
in  the  inner  sanctuaiy  of  all  hearts,  a  powerful  witness  might 
be  borne  for  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  J 

*  Multis  jam  christianis  Gallis  dolet,  quod  a  Zwinglii  aliorumque  de 
Eucharistia  sentenlia,  dissentiat  Lutherus.  (Tossanus  Farello,  14th 
July,  1525. 

t  Gluam  sollicite  quotidianis  precibus  commendem.  (Tossanus  Farello, 
-2nd  Sept.  1524,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

X  Opto  enim  Galliam  Evangelicis  voluniinibus  abundare,  (Coctus  Fa- 
te\\o,  MS,  ds  Neiifchatcl.) 


448  INFLUENCE    OF    TRACTS. 

For  such  an  undertaking  funds  were  necessary, — and  the 
refugees  were  destitute  of  funds.  Vaugris  was  then  at  Basle. 
Anemond,  on  parting  with  him,  gave  him  a  letter  to  the  bre- 
thren of  Lyons,  some  of  whom  had  considerable  possessions 
in  lands,  and,  notwithstanding  they  were  oppressed,  remained 
faithful  to  the  Gospel.  In  his  letter,  he  asked  their  assist- 
stnce'*  but  that  could  not  at  all  meet  the  extent  of  the  need. 
The  Frenchmen  resolved  to  establish  several  presses  at  Basle, 
that  should  be  worked  day  and  night,  so  as  to  inundate  all 
France  with  God's  word.f  At  Meaux,  Metz,  and  other  places, 
there  were  those  rich  enough  to  contribute  to  this  work ;  and 
as  no  one  could  appeal  to  Frenchmen  with  more  authority 
than  Farel,  it  was  to  him  that  Anemond  made  application. |: 

We  do  not  find  that  the  scheme  of  Anemond  was  realized ; 
but  the  work  was  carried  out  by  others.  The  presses  of  Basle 
were  incessantly  employed  in  printing  French  works,  which 
were  forwarded  to  Farel,  and  by  him  introduced  into  France. 
One  of  the  earliest  of  the  issues  of  this  Religious  Tract  So- 
ciety was  Luther's  Exposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer.  "  We 
sell  the  Pater  at  four  deniers  de  Bale  to  private  persons," 
wrote  Vaugris — "but  to  the  wholesale  dealer^  we  supply  co- 
pies at  the  rate  of  200  for  two  florins,  which  is  somethinsg 
less."^ 

Anemond  was  accustomed  to  transmit  from  Bale  to  Farel 
any  profitable  books  published  or  received  in  that  city — at  one 
time  a  tract  on  ordination,  at  another,  an  essay  on  the  educa- 
tion of  children.  ||  Farel  looked  through  them,  composing, 
translating,  and  seeming,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  all  activity, 
and  yet  all  meditation.  Anemond  urged  on,  and  superintend- 
ed the  printing,  and  these  letters,  requests,  and  books,  all  these 
little  single  sheets,  were  among  the  instruments  of  regenera- 

*  Ut  pecuniaa aliquid  ad  me  mittant.     (Coct.  Far.  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Ut  prflBla  multa  erigere  possimus.     (Ibid.) 

X  An  censes  inveniri  posse  Lugduni,  Meldse,  aut  alibi  in  Galliis  qui 
nos  ad  hsec  juvare  velint.     (Ibid.) 

§  Vaugris  a  Farel ;  (Bale,  29th  Aug.  1524.     MS  de  Neufchatel.) 

II  Mitto  tibi  librum  de  instituendis  n.inistris  Ecclesife  cum  libro  de  in- 
Stituendis  pueris.     (Coctus  Farello,  2d  Sept.  1521,  Ibid,) 


THE    NEW    TESTAMENT    IN    FRENCH.  449 

tion  to  that  age.  While  dissoluteness  and  profligacy  descend- 
ed from  the  throne  to  the  lower  orders,  and  darkness  spread 
fiom  the  very  steps  of  the  altar,  these  writings,  so  inconsider- 
able and  unnoticed,  alone  diffused  the  beams  of  light,  and  the 
seeds  of  holiness. 

But  it  was  especially  God's  word  that  the  evangelic  mer- 
chant of  Lyons  required  for  his  fellow-countrymen.  That 
generation  of  the  sixteenth  century,  so  eager  for  all  that  could 
satisfy  the  re-au  akened  intellect,  was  to  receive  in  its  vernacu- 
lar tongue  those  early  records  of  the  first  ages — redolent  with 
the  young  breath  of  human  nature, — and  those  holy  oracles 
of  apostolic  times,  bright  with  the  fulness  of  the  revelation  of 
Christ.  Vaugris  wTote  to  Farel — "  Pray,  see  if  it  be  not 
possible  to  have  the  New  Testament  translated  by  some  com- 
petent hand ; — it  would  be  a  great  blessing  to  France,  Bur- 
gundy, and  Savoy.  And  if  you  should  not  be  already  pro- 
vided with  the  proper  types,  I  would  order  some  from  Paris 
or  Lj'-ons — but  if  we  have  the  types  at  Basle,  it  would  be  all 
the  better." 

Lefevre  had  previously  published  at  Meaux,  but  by  detach- 
ed portions,  the  books  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  French 
language.  Vaugris  wished  some  one  to  undertake  a  revision 
of  the  whole  for  a  new  edition.  Lefevre  undertook  to  do  so, 
and,  as  we  have  already  related,  published  the  entire  volume 
on  the  12th  October,  1524.  Conrad,  an  uncle  of  Vaugris, 
who  had  also  sought  an  asylum  in  Basle,  sent  for  a  copy.  De 
Coct,  happening  to  be  in  company  with  a  friend  on  the  18th 
November,  first  saw  the  book,  and  w^as  overjoyed.  "  Lose  no 
time  in  going  to  press  again,"  said  he,' "  for  I  doubt  not  a  vast 
number  of  copies  v/ill  be  called  for."* 

Thus  was  the  word  of  God  offered  to  France  side  by  side 
with  those  traditions  of  the  Church  which  Rome  is  still  con- 
tinually presenting  to  her.  "  How  can  we  discern,"  asked  the 
Reformers,  "  between  what  is  of  man  in  your  traditions  and 
that  which  is  of  God,  save  only  by  the  Scriptures  of  truth  ? — 

*  MS.  of  the  Conclave  of  Neufchatel. 

38* 


450  BIBLE    AND    TRACT    SOCIETIES. 

The  maxims  of  the  Fathers,  the  decretals  of  the  Church-, 
cannot  be  the  rule  of  f;iith:  they  show  us  what  was  the  judg-- 
ment  of  those  earlier  divines,  but  only  from  the  Word  can  we 
gather  the  thoughts  of  God.  Every  thing  must  be  tested  by 
Scripture." 

In  this  manner,  for  the  most  part,  these  printed  works  were 
circulated.  Farel  and  his  friends  transmitted  the  sacred  books 
to  certain  dealers  or  colporteurs — poor  men  of  good  character 
for  piety,  who,  bearing  their  precious  burden,  went  through 
towns  and  villages — from  house  to  house — in  Franchecomte, 
Burgundy,  and  the  neighbouring  districts,  knocking  at  every 
door.  The  books  were  sold  to  them  at  a  low  price,  that  the 
interest  they  had  in  the  sale  might  make  them  the  more  indus- 
trious in  disposing  of  them.*  Thus  as  early  as  1524  there 
existed  in  Basle,  and  having  France  for  the  field  of  their 
operations,  a  Rible  society — an  association  of  colporteurs — and 
a  religious  tract  society.  It  is,  then,  a  mistake  to  conceive 
that  such  efforts  date  only  from  our  own  age  ;  they  go  back, — 
at  least  in  the  identity  of  the  objects  they  propose, — not  merely 
to  the  days  of  the  Reformation,  but  still  further,  to  the  first 
ages  of  the  Church. 

The  attention  which  Farel  bestowed  on  France  did  not 
cause  him  to  neglect  the  places  where  he  resided.  Arriving 
at  Montbeliard,  towards  the  end  of  July,  1524,  he  had  no 
sooner  sown  the  seed,  than,  to  use  the  language  of  CEcolam- 
padius,  the  first-fruits  of  the  harvest  began  to  appear.  FareJ, 
exulting,  communicated  his  success  to  his  friend. — "  It  is  easy," 
replied  the  doctor  of  Basle,  "  to  instil  a  few  dogmas  into 
the  ears  of  our  auditor's;  but  God  alone  can  change  their 
hearts."! 

De  Coct,  overjoyed  with  this  intelligence,  hurried  to  Peter 
Toussaint's  house.  "  To-morrow,"  said  he,  with  his  usual 
\ivacity,  "  I  set  ofl^  to  visit  Farel."  Toussaint,  more  calm, 
was  then  writing  to  the  evangelist  of  Montbeliard :  "  Have  a 
care,"  wrote  he;    "the  cause  you  have  taken  in  hand  is  of 

*  Vaugris  a  Farel.     (MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

t  Animum  autera  immutare,  divinum  opus  est,     (CEcol.  Epp,  p.  200.) 


FAREL    AT    MONTBELIARD.  451 

solemn  importance,  and  should  not  be  contaminated  by  the 
counsels  of  men.  The  great  ones  may  promise  you  their 
flwour,  assistance,  aye,  and  heaps  of  gold — but  to  put  confi- 
dence in  these  things  is  to  forsake  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  walk 
in  darkness."*  Toussaint  was  in  the  act  of  closing  his  letter 
when  De  Coct  entered  ;  and  the  latter,  taking  charge  of  it,  set 
off  for  Montbeliard. 

He  found  all  the  city  in  commotion.  Several  of  the  nobles, 
in  alarm,  and  casting  a  look  of  contempt  on  Farel,  exclaimed, 
"  What  can  this  poor  wretch  want  with  us?  Would  that  he 
had  never  come  amongst  us.  He  must  not  remain  here,  or 
he  will  bring  ruin  upon  us  as  well  as  upon  himself"  These 
nobles,  who  had  retired  to  Montbeliard  in  company  with  the 
duke  for  shelter,  feared  lest  the  stir  which  everywhere  accom- 
panied the  spread  of  the  Reformation  should,  by  drawing  upon 
them  the  notice  of  Charles  V.  and  Ferdinand,  lead  to  their 
being  driven  from  their  only  remaining  asylum.  But  the 
ecclesiastics  were  Farel's  bitterest  opponents.  The  superior 
of  the  Franciscans  at  Besanqon  hastened  to  Montbeliard,  and 
concocted  defensive  measures  with  the  clergy  of  that  place. 
The  following  Sunday  Farel  had  scarcely  begun  to  preach 
when  he  was  interrupted,  and  called  a  liar  and  a  heretic.  Im- 
mediately the  whole  assembly  was  in  an  uproar.  The 
audience  rose,  and  called  for  silence.  The  duke  hastened  to 
the  spot,  put  both  the  superior  and  Farel  under  arrest,  and 
insisted  that  the  former  should  prove  his  charges,  or  else 
retract  them.  The  superior  chose  the  latter  course,  and  an 
official  report  was  published  of  the  transaction. f 

This  attack  only  rendered  Farel  more  zealous  than  before: 
thenceforward  he  believed  it  his  duty  fearlessly  to  unmask 
these  interested  priests;  and,  drawing  the  sword  of  the  Word, 
he  applied  it  unsparingly.  He  was  now  more  than  ever  led 
to  imitate  Jesus,  rather  in  his  character  as  the  purifier  of  the 

*  ...  A  quibus  si  pendemus,  jam  a  Christo  defecimus.  (Manuscrit 
de  Neufchatel.) 

*  Der  Christliche  Handel  zu  Miimpelgard,  verloffen  mit  griindlichen 
Wahrheit. 


452  OIL    AND    WINE. 

temple,  driving  out  thence  the  traffickers  and  money-changers, 
and  overthrowing  their  tables, — than  as  the  one  of  whom  pro- 
phecy declared,  "  He  shall  7iot  strive  nor  cry^  neither  shall  his 
voice  be  heard  in  the  streets.^''  QEcolampadius  was  affrighted. 
These  two  men  were  the  perfect  types  of  two  characters  dia- 
metrically opposite,  and  yet  both  worthy  of  our  admiration — 
"Your  mission,"  wrote  CEcolampadius  to  Farel,  "is  gently  to 
draw  men  to  the  truth,  not  to  drag  them  with  violence ;  to 
preach  the  Gospel, — not  to  pronounce  maledictions.  Physi- 
cians resort  to  amputation,  only  when  external  applications 
have  failed.  Act  the  part  of  the  physicia?i,  not  of  the  execu- 
tioner. In  my  judgment,  it  is  not  enough  that  you  are  gentle 
towards  the  friends  of  the  Truth.  You  must  likewise  U'i7i 
over  the  adversaries.  Or  if  the  wolves  are  to  be  driven  from 
the  fold,  at  least  let  the  sheep  hear  the  voice  of  the  shepherd. 
Pour  oil  and  wine  into  the  wounded  heart — and  be  the  herald 
of  glad  tidings,  not  a  judge  or  a  tyrant."*  The  report  of 
these  things  spread  both  in  France  and  Lorraine,  and  this 
gathering  together  of  refugees  in  Basle  and  Montbeliard  began 
to  alarm  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Cardinal.  Gladly  would  they 
have  broken  up  so  ominous  an  alliance ;  for  error  knows  no 
greater  triumph  than  the  enlisting  a  renegade  in  its  ranks. 
Already  had  Martial  Mazurier  and  others  given  the  papal 
party  in  France  an  opportunity  of  rejoicing  over  shameful 
desertions;  but  if  they  could  only  succeed  in  seducing  one  of 
those  confessors  of  Christ  who  had  fled  for  safety  to  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine, — one  who  had  suffered  much  for  the  name  of 
the  Lord, — that  were  indeed  a  victory  for  the  hierarchy. 
Measures  were  concerted  and  directed  in  the  first  instance 
against  the  youngest. 

The  Dean,  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  and  all  the  circle 
which  assembled  at  the  prelate's  house,  deplored  the  sad  fate 
of  Peter  Toussaint,  once  the  object  of  so  many  hopes.  He  is 
at  Basle,  said  they,  living  in  the  very  house  of  CEcolampadius, 
in  close  intercourse  with  that  leader  in  this  heresy.      They 

*  Cluod  Evangelistam,  non  tyrannicum  legisiatorem  praestes.  (OEcol. 
Epp.  p.  206.) 


toussaint's  trials.  453 

wrote  to  him  movingly,  as  though  his  salvation  was  at  stake. 
These  letters  were  the  more  distressing  to  the  poor  young 
man,  because  they  bore  evident  marks  of  sincere  affection.* 
One  of  his  relations,  probably  the  Dean  himself,  urged  him  to 
remove  to  Paris,  Metz,  or  whatever  place  he  pleased,  provided 
it  were  but  at  a  distance  from  the  Lutherans.  This  relation 
bearing  in  mind  how  much  Toussaint  was  indebted  to  him, 
doubted  not  his  immediate  compliance  .with  the  injunction; 
when  therefore  he  found  his  efforts  unavailing,  his  affection 
was  succeeded  by  violent  hatred.  This  resistance,  on  the  part 
of  the  young  refugee  exasperated  against  him  all  his  family 
and  friends.  Recourse  was  had  to  his  mother,  who  was 
entirely  under  the  influence  of  the  monks  .f  the  priests  came 
about  her  frightening  her,  and  persuading  her  that  her  son 
had  been  guilty  of  crimes  which  could  not  be  named  without 
shuddering.  On  this  the  distressed  parent  wrote  to  her  son 
an  affecting  letter,  "  full  of  tears,"  as  he  says,  in  which  she 
described  her  misery  in  heart-rending  terms.  "  Oh  !  wretched 
mother,"  said  she,  "  Oh  !  unnatural  son ! — Cursed  be  the 
breasts  that  suckled  thee,  cursed  be  the  knees  that  bare  thee."| 
Poor  Toussaint  was  overwhelmed  with  consternation. 
What  was  he  to  do?  Return  to  France  he  could  not.  To 
leave  Basle  and  proceed  to  Zurich  or  Wittemberg,  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  kindred,  would  only  have  added  to  their  distress. 
(Ecolampadius  suggested  a  middle  course.  "Leave  my 
house,"  said  he.§  With  a  sorrowful  heart  Toussaint  complied, 
and  went  to  lodge  with  a  priest,  both  ignorant  and  obscure, 
and  soil  well  fitted  to  quiet  the  fears  of  his  relations.  What 
a  change  for  him  !  He  had  no  intercourse  with  his  host  except 
at  meals.     At  such  times  they  were  continually  differing  on 

♦  Me  in  dies  divexari  legendis  amicorum  litteris  qui  me  .  .  .  ab  insti- 
tute remorari  nituntur,  (Tossanus  Farcllo,  2nd  Sep.  1524.  ManU' 
scrit  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Jam  cupulo  proxima.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

t  Litteras  ad  me  dedit  plenas  lacrymis  quibus  maledicit  et  uberibus 
quae  me  lactarunt,  &c.     (Ibid.) 

§  "Visum  est  CEcolampadio  consultum  .  .  .  ut  a  se  secederera.    (Ibid.) 

!)  Utor  domo  cujusdJV'"  s^crificuU.     (Ibid.) 


454  FAREL    AND    ANEMOND. 

matters  of  faith,  but — no  sooner  was  his  meal  ended,  than 
Toussaint  hastened  to  shut  himself  in  his  chamber;  where, 
undisturbed  by  noise  and  controversy,  he  carefully  studied  the 
word  of  God.  "  The  Lord  is  my  witness,"  said  he,  "  that  in 
this  valley  of  tears,  I  have  but  one  desire,  and  that  is,  to  see 
Christ's  kingdom  extend  itself,  that  all  with  one  mouth  may 
glorify  God."* 

One  incident  took  place  and  cheered  Toussaint.  The  ene- 
mies of  the  Gospel  at  Metz  were  becoming  more  and  more 
powerful.  At  his  entreaty  the  chevalier  d'Esch,  undertook  a 
journey  in  July,  1525,  to  strengthen  the  Evangelical  Chris- 
tians of  that  city.  He  traversed  the  forests  of  Vosges,  and 
reached  the  place  where  Leclerc  had  laid  down  his  life,  bring- 
ing with  him  several  books  with  which  Farel  had  supplied 
him.f 

But  the  French  exiles  did  not  confine  their  attention  to 
Lorraine.  De  Coct  received  letters  from  one  of  Farel's 
brothers,  depicting,  in  gloomy  colours,  the  condition  of  Dau- 
phiny.  He  carefully  avoided  showing  them,  lest  he  should 
alarm  the  faint-hearted,  but  bore  them  on  his  heart  before  God 
in  fervent  prayer,  for  His  all-powerful  aid.j:  In  December, 
1524,  one  Peter  Verrier,  a  messenger  from  Dauphiny,  en- 
trusted with  commissions  for  Farel  and  Anemond,  arrived  on 
horseback  at  Montbeliard.  The  knight,  with  his  usual  im- 
petuosity,  immediately  resolved  on  returning  into  France. 
"  If  the  said  Peter  has  brought  money,"  wrote  he  to  Farel, 
"  do  you  take  it :  if  he  has  brought  letters  open  them,  take 
copies  and  send  them  to  me.  Do  not  however  sell  the  horse, 
but  keep  it,  since  I  may  perhaps  need  it.  I  am  minded  to 
enter  France  secretly,  and  visit  Jacobus  Faber,  (Lefevre)  and 
Arandius.     Write  me  your  opinion  of  this  plan."(^ 

*  Ut  Christi  regnum  quam  latissime  pateat.     (MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 

+  Gluil  s'en  retourne  a  Metz,  la  ou  les  ennemis  de  Dieu  s'elevent  jour- 
nellement  centre  I'Evangile.  (Tossanus  Farello ;  17th  Dec.  1524.  MS, 
de  Neufchatel.) 

X  Accepi  ante  horam  a  fratretuo  epistolam  quam  hie  nuUi  manifestavi ; 
terrentur  enim  infirmi.     (Coctus  Farello,  2nd  Sept.  1524.) 

t  Coct  a  Farel,  Dec.  1524.     MS  de  Neufchatel. 


IMAGE    OF    ST.    ANTHONY.  455 

Such  was  the  unreserved  confidence  which  existed  among" 
these  refugees.  De  Coct,  it  is  true,  was  already  indebted 
thirty-six  crowns  to  Farel,  whose  purse  was  ever  at  the  ser- 
vice of  his  friends.  The  knight's  plan  of  returning  to  France 
was  one  of  more  zeal  than  wisdom.  His  habitual  want  of 
caution  would  have  exposed  him  to  certain  death.  This  Farel 
doubtless  explained  to  him.  Leaving  Basle  he  withdrew  to  a 
small  tow^n,  having,  as  he  said,  "  great  hopes  of  acquiring  the 
German  tongue,  God  willhig.^'"^ 

Farel  continued  to  preach  the  Gospel  at  Montbeliard.  His 
spirit  was  grieved  within  him,  beholding  the  great  body  of 
the  people  of  that  place  wholly  given  to  the  worship  of  ima- 
ges. In  his  opinion  it  was  no  better  than  a  return  to  heathen 
idolatry. 

Nevertheless  the  exhortations  of  OEcolampadius,  and  the 
fear  of  compromising  the  truth,  would,  perhaps,  have  long 
restrained  him,  but  for  an  unforeseen  circumstance.  One  day, 
towards  the  end  of  February  (it  was  the  feast  of  St.  Anthony.) 
Farel  was  walking  near  the  banks  of  a  little  river  that  runs 
through  the  town,  below  the  lofty  rock  on  which  stands 
the  citadel,  when,  as  he  reached  the  bridge,  he  met  a  pro- 
cession, reciting  prayers  to  St.  Anthony,  and  headed  by  two 
priests,  bearing  the  image  of  that  saint.  He  thus  found  him- 
self suddenly  brought  into  contact  with  these  superstitions. 
A  violent  struggle  took  place  in  his  soul ;  shall  he  be  silent, 
or  conceal  himself?  would  it  not  be  a  cowardly  want  of  faith? 
These  dumb  idols,  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  ignorant  priests, 
made  his  blood  boil.  He  boldly  advanced,  snatched  from  the 
priests'  arms  the  shrine  of  the  holy  hermit,  and  threw  it  from 
the  bridge  into  the  stream.  Then,  turning  toward  the  as- 
tonished crowd,  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  Poor  idolaters,  will  ye 
never  put  away  your  idols  ?"t 

The  priests  and  people  were  motionless  in  astonishment. 
A  holy  fear  for  a  while  paralysed  them;  but  soon  recovering, 
they  exclaimed,  "  The  image  is  sinking," 

♦  Coct  a  Farel,  Jan.  1525.     MS.  de  Neufchatel. 

t  Revue  du  Dauphine,  torn.  ii.  p.  38.     MS  de  Choupard. 


456  DEATH    OF    ANEMOND. 

less  silence  was  succeeded  by  transporrs  of  rage.  The  crowd 
would  have  rushed  upon  the  sacrilegious  wretch  who  had 
hurled  into  the  river  the  object  of  their  adoration  ;  but  Farel, 
we  know  not  how,  escaped  their  fury.* 

Many  may  regret  that  the  Reformer  allowed  himself  to  be 
hurried  into  an  act  which  tended  to  check  the  progress  of  the 
truth.  We  can  enter  into  their  feelings.  Let  no  man  think 
himself  authorized  to  attack  with  violence  an  institution  which 
has  tlie  public  sanction.  Yet  is  there  in  this  zeal  of  the  Re- 
former a  something  more  noble  than  that  cold  prudence  so 
common  in  the  world,  and  which  shrinks  from  incurring  the 
smallest  danger,  or  making  the  most  trifling  sacrifice  for  the 
advancement  of  God's  kingdom.  Farel  well  knew  that  by 
this  act  he  was  exposing  himself  to  the  death  which  Leclerc 
had  suffered.  But  his  own  conscience  bore  testimony  that  he 
desired  only  to  promote  the  glory  of  God,  and  this  elevated 
him  above  all  fear. 

After  this  incident  of  the  bridge,  in  which  we  discern  his 
natural  character,  Farel  was  obliged  to  conceal  himself,  and 
soon  afterwards  to  quit  the  city.  He  took  refuge  with  CEco- 
lampadius  at  Basle ;  but  he  ever  retained  that  attachment  to 
Montbeliard,  which  a  servant  of  God  never  ceases  to  cherish 
for  the  scene  of  the  first-fruits  of  his  ministry.! 

At  Basle,  sad  tidings  awaited  him.  Himself  a  fugitive,  he 
now  learned  that  Anemond  de  Coct  was  dangerously  ill. 
Farel  immediately  remitted  to  him  four  gold  crowns  :  but  on 
the  25th  of  March,  a  letlr  from  Oswald  Myconius  brought 
him  intelligence  of  the  knight's  death.  "  Let  us  so  live," 
wrote  Oswald,  "that  we  may  enter  into  that  rest  which  wc 
trust  the  soul  of  Anemond  has  now  entered  upon."| 

*  M.  Kirchhoffer,  in  his  Life  of  Farel,  gives  this  circumstance  as  an 
uncertain  tradition  :  but  it  is  related  by  Protestant  writers,  and  besides 
seems  to  me  perfectly  consistent  with  the  character  of  Fare!  and  the  fears 
of  CEcolampadius.  It  is  our  duty  to  admit  the  weaknesses  of  the  Refor- 
mation. 

t  Ingens  affectus,  qui  me  cogit  Mumpelgardum  amare.     (Farelii  Epp.) 
t  Q,uo   Anemundi   spiritum  jam   pervenisse  speramus.      (Myconius 
Farello,  MS.  de  Neufchatel.) 


DEFEAT    AND    CAPTIVITY    OF    FRANCIS    I.  457 

Thus  prematurely  died  Anemond  ; — still  young-,  full  of 
activity  and  energy, — in  himself  a  host, — ready  to  undertake 
every  labour,  and  brave  every  danger  in  the  hope  of  evan- 
gelizing France.  GocVs  loays  are  not  our  icays.  Not  long 
before,  and  near  Zurich  too,  another  noble,  Ulric  von  Hutten, 
had  breathed  his  last.  Points  of  resemblance  are  not  wanting 
between  the  two  ;  but  the  piety  and  christian  virtues  of  the  na- 
tive of  Dauphiny  entitle  him  to  rank  far  above  the  level  of  the 
witty  and  intrepid  enemy  of  the  Pope  and  monks. 

Shortly  after  Anemond's  death,  Farel,  finding  it  impossible 
to  remain  at  Basle  whence  he  had  already  been  expelled, 
joined  his  friends  Capito  and  Bucer  at  Strasburg. 

Thus  at  Montbeliard  and  at  Basle,  as  well  as  at  Lyons,  the 
ranks  of  the  Reformers  were  thinned.  Of  those  who  most 
zealously  contended  for  the  faith,  some  had  been  removed  by 
death — others  were  scattered  by  persecution,  and  in  exile.  In 
vain  did  the  combatants  turn  their  efforts  in  every  direction. 
On  all  sides  they  were  repulsed.  But  though  the  forces  con- 
centrated first  at  Meaux,  then  at  Lyons,  and  lastly  at  Basle, 
had  been  successively  broken  up,  there  remained  here  and 
there,  in  Lorraine,  at  Meaux,  and  even  in  Paris,  good  soldiers, 
who  struggled,  more  or  less  openly,  in  support  of  God's  word 
in  France.  Though  the  Reformation  saw  its  ranks  broken, 
it  still  had  its  single  champions.  Against  these  the  Sorbonne 
and  the  Parliament  now  turned  their  anger.  The  resolution 
was  taken  to  exterminate  from  the  soil  of  France  the  devoted 
men  who  had  undertnken  to  plant  thereon  the  standard  of 
Jesus  Christ ; — and  unprecedented  misfortunes  seemed  at  this 
season  to  conspire  with  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  to 
favour  the  attainment  of  their  purpose. 

During  the  latter  part  of  Farel's  stay  at  Montbeliard,  great 
events  had  indeed  taken  place  on  the  theatre  of  the  world. 
Lannoy,  and  Pescara,  Charles's  generals,  having  quitted 
France  on  the  approach  of  Francis  I.,  that  Prince  crossed  the 
Alps,  and  blockaded  Pa  via.  On  the  24th  oi  February  1525, 
Pescara  attacked  him.  Bonnivet,  la  Tremouille,  la  Palisse 
and  Lescure  died  fighting  by  his  side.  The  Dukeof  Alencjon, 
VOL.  III.  39  • 


& 


458  CONSTERNATION    OF    THE    FRENCH. 

the  first  prince  of  the  blood  and  husband  of  Margaret,  fled, 
carrying  with  him  the  rear-guard,  and  died  of  shame  and  grief 
at  Lyons.  Francis  himself,  thrown  from  his  horse,  surren- 
dered his  sword  to  Charles  de  Lannoy,  viceroy  of  Naples, 
who  received  it  kneeling  on  one  knee.  The  King  of  France 
was  the  Emperor's  prisoner  !  His  captivity  seemed  to  be  the 
greatest  of  all  misfortunes.  "  Nothing  is  left  me  but  honour 
and  life,"  wrote  that  Prince  to  his  mother.  But  to  none  was 
this  event  more  affecting  than  to  Margaret.  The  glory  of  her 
country  over-clouded,  France  without  a  monarch,  and  ex- 
posed to  accumulated  dangers,  her  beloved  brother  the  captive 
of  his  haughty  foe,  her  husband  dishonoured  and  dead, — what 
an  overflowing  cup  of  bitterness  !  But  she  had  a  Comforter  : 
— and  whilst  her  brother  sought  to  comfort  himself  by  repeat- 
ing, "  Tout  est  perdu^  fors  Vhonneur  /"  (all  is  lost  save 
honour!)  .  .  She  was  able  to  say,  ^  Fors  Jesus  seuL  man 
frere^Jils  de  Dieu,^ — ''  Save  Christ  alone,  my  brother.  Son  of 
God  !"* 

All  France,  nobles,  parliament,  and  people  were  over- 
whelmed in  consternation.  Ere  long,  as  in  the  first  three 
centuries  of  the  Cnurch,  the  calamity  which  had  overtaken 
the  state  was  charged  upon  the  Christians, — and  the  cry  of 
fanatics  on  all  sides  demanded  their  blood  as  the  means  of 
averting  fuither  misfortunes.  The  moment,  therefore,  was 
favourable  to  the  opposers  of  the  truth  ;  it  was  not  enough  to 
have  dislodged  the  evangelical  Christians  from  the  three  strong 
positions  they  had  taken  up,  it  was  necessary  to  profit  by  the 
popular  panic  to  strike  while  the  iron  was  hot,  and  utterly  to 
extirpate  a  power  which  was  becoming  so  formidable  to  the 
Papacy. 

At  the  head  of  this  conspiracy,  and  loudest  in  these  clamours, 
were  Beda,  Duchesne,  and  Lecouturier.  These  irreconcilable 
enemies  of  the  Gospel  flattered  themselves  that  they  mioht 
easily  obtain,  from  public  terror,  the  victims  hitherto  refused. 
They  went  immediately  to   work,  employing  fanatical   ha- 

t  Les  Margrupritps  <1p  la  Marguerite,  p.  29. 


OPPOSERS    OF    THE    FAITH.  459 

rangues,  lamentations,  threats,  and  libels,  to  arouse  the  angry 
passions  of  the  nation  and  its  governors, — vomiting  fire  and 
flame  against  their  adversaries,  and  heaping  insults  upon 
them.* 

They  stopped  at  nothing ; — dishonestly  quoting  their  words, 
without  reference  to  any  explanatory  context,  substituting  ex- 
pressions of  their  own  in  place  of  those  used  by  the  teachers 
they  wished  to  inculpate,  and  omitting  or  adding  according  as 
was  necessary  to  blacken  the  character  of  their  opponents,! 
Such  is  the  testimony  of  Erasmus  himself 

Nothing  so  niuch  excited  their  anger  as  the  doctrine  of  Sal- 
vation by  Free  Grace, — the  corner-stone  of  Christianity  and 
of  the  Reformation.  "  When  1  contemplate,"  said  Beda, 
"  these  three  men,  Lefevre,  Erasmus,  and  Luther,  in  other  re- 
spects gifted  with  so  penetrating  a  genius,  leagued  together  in 
a  conspiracy  against  meritorious  works,  and  resting  all  the 
weight  of  salvation  on  faith  alone, J  I  am  no  longer  astonished 
that  thousands,  led  away  by  such  teaching,  begin  to  say, 
'  Why  should  I  fast  and  mortify  my  body?'  Let  us  banish 
from  France  this  hateful  doctrine  of  grace.  This  neglect  of 
good  works  is  a  fatal  snare  of  the  devil." 

Thus  did  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne  fight  against  the  faith. 
He  would  naturally  find  supporters  in  a  profligate  court,  and 
likewise  in  another  class  of  people,  more  respectable,  but  not 
less  opposed  to  the  Gospel ; — we  mean  those  grave  men.  and 
rigid  moralists,  who,  devoted  to  the  study  of  laws  and  judicial 
forms,  discern  in  Christianity  no  more  than  a  system  of  laws, 
and  in  the  Church  only  a  sort  of  moral  police,  and  \vho,-un- 
able  to  make  the  doctrines  of  man's  spiritual  helplessness,  the 
new  birth,  and  justification  by  faith,  square  with  the  legal 
habit  of  their  minds,  are  induced  to  regard  them  as  fanciful 
imaginations,  dangerous  to  public  morals  and  to  national  pros- 

*  Plus  quam  scurrilibus  conviclis  debacchantes.  .  .  (Er.  Francisco 

Regi,  p.  1108.) 

+  Pro  meis  verbis  supponit  sua,  praetermittit,  addit      (Ibid,  p,  887.) 
J  Cum  itaque  cerneram  tres  istos  ,  .  uno  animo  in   opera  meritoria 

conspirasse,     (Natalis  Bedae  Apologia  adversus  clandestinos  Lutheranoa, 

fol.  41.) 


460  THE    QUEEN-MOTHER    AND    THE    SORBONNE. 

perity.  This  aversion  to  the  doctrine  of  free  grace,  manifested 
itself  in  the  16th  century  under  two  widely  different  forms. 
In  Italy  and  in  Poland  it  took  the  form  of  Socinianism,  so 
called  from  its  originator,  who  was  descended  from  a  celebrated 
family  of  jurists  at  Sienna  ;  while  in  France,  it  showed  itself  in 
the  stern  decrees  and  burnings  of  the  Parliament. 

Contemning  the  great  truths  of  the  Gospel,  as  promulgated 
by  the  Reformers,  and  thinking  it  necessary  to  do  something 
at  this  season  of  overwhelming  calamity,  the  Parliament  pre- 
sented an  address  to  Louisa  of  Savoy,  remonstrating  strongly 
on  the  conduct  of  the  government  towards  the  new  teaching: 
"  Heresy,"  said  they,  "  has  raised  its  head  amongst  us,  and  the 
king,  by  his  neglecting  to  bring  the  heretics  to  the  scaffold, 
has  drawa  down  upon  us  the  wrath  of  heaven." 

At  the  same  time  the  pulpits  resounded  with  lamentations, 
threatenings,  and  maledictions  ;  and  prompt  and  signal  punish- 
ments were  loudly  demanded.  Martial  Mazurier  took  a  pro- 
minent part  among  the  preachers  of  Paris,  and  endeavouring 
by  his  violence  to  efface  the  recollection  of  his  former  connec- 
tion with  the  partisans  of  the  Reformation,  inveighed  against 
such  as  were  "secretly  the  disciples  of  Luther."  "Know 
you,"  cried  he,  "  the  rppid  progress  of  this  poison  ?  Know 
you  its  strength?  It  acts  with  inconceivable  rapidity;  in  a 
moment  it  may  destroy  tens  of  thousands  of  souls.  Ah  \  well 
may  we  tremble  for  France."* 

It  was  not  difficult  to  excite  the  Queen-mother  against  the 
favourers  of  the  Reformation.  Her  daughter  Margaret,  the 
chief  personages  of  the  court,  she  herself,  Louisa  of  Savoy, 
who  had  ever  been  devoted  to  the  Roman  Pontiff',  had  been  by 
certain  of  the  fanatics  charged  with  countenancing  Lefevre, 
Berquin,  and  the  other  innovators.  Had  she  not  been  known, 
insinuated  her  accusers,  to  read  their  tracts  and  translations  of 
the  Bible?  The  Queen-mother  was  not  unwilling  to  clear 
herself  of  such  dishonouring  suspicions.     Alieady  she  had 

*  ■'^Tarurius  contra  occultos  Lutheri  discipuil  os  declamat,  ac  recentis 
veneni  celeitatem  vimque  denunciat.  (Lannoi,  regii  Navarrae  gymnasij 
historia,  p.  621. 


COMBINE    AGAINST    THE    GOSPEL.  461 

d-^spatched  her  confessor  to  the  Sorbonne  to  enquire  of  that 
body  as  to  the  best  method  of  extirpating  this  heresy.  "  The 
detestable  doctrine  of  Luther,"  said  she  in  her  message  to  the 
faculty,  ''  every  day  gains  new  adherents."  The  faculty  smil- 
ed on  the  receipt  of*  this  message.  The  time  had  been  when 
the  representations  they  had  made  were  dismissed  without  so 
much  as  a  hearing;  but  now  their  adv'ce  was  humbly  soli- 
cited in  the  matter.  At  length  they  held  within  their  grasp 
that  heresy  which  they  had  so  long  desired  to  stifle.  They 
deputed  Noel  Beda  to  return  an  immediate  answer  to  the 
Q-ueen-Regent.  "  Since,"  said  the  fanatical  syndic,  "  the  ser- 
mons, discussions,  and  books,  with  which  we  have  so  often  op- 
posed heresy,  have  failed  to  arrest  its  progress,  a  proclamation 
ought  to  be  put  forth,  prohibiting  the  circulation  of  the  writ- 
ings of  the  heretics — and  if  these  measures  should  prove  in- 
sufficient, force  and  restraint  should  be  employed  against  the 
persons  of  the  false  teachers  ;  for  they  who  resist  the  light 
must  be  subdued  by  punishments  and  terror P* 

But  Louisa  ha'^  not  even  waited  for  their  answer.  Scarcely 
had  Francis  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Charles  V.,  when  she 
wrote  to  the  Pope,  consulting  him  as  to  his  wishes  with  re- 
spect to  heretics.  It  was  important  to  Louisa's  policy  to  se- 
cure to  herself  the  favour  of  a  pontiff  who  had  power  to  raise 
all  Italy  against  the  conqueror  of  Pavia ;  and  she  did  not  think 
that  favour  would  be  too  dearly  bought  at  the  cost  of  some 
French  blood.  The  Pope,  delighted  at  the  opportunity  of 
letting  loose  his  vengeance  in  the  '  most  Christian  kingdom,' 
against  a  heresy  of  which  he  had  failed  to  arrest  the  progress 
either  in  Switzerland  or  Germany,  gave  instant  directions  for 
the  establishment  of  the  Inquisition  in  France,  and  despatched 
a  bull  to  that  effect  to  the  Parliament.  At  the  same  time  Du- 
prat,  whom  the  Pontiff  had  created  a  cardinal,  at  the  same 
time  bestowing  upon  him  the  archbishopric  of  Sens  and  a  rich 
abbey,  laboured  to  testify  his  gratitude  for  these  favours,  by  his 
indefatigable  opposition  to  the  heretics.     Thus  the  Pope,  the 

*  Histoire  de  I'Universite,  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  196. 
39* 


462      PARLIAMENT    ESTABLISHES    THE    INQUISITION, 

Regent,  the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Parliament,  the 
Chancellor  and  the  fanatics,  were  now  combining  to  ruin  the 
Gospel  and  put  its  confessors  to  death. 

The  Parliamer!  was  first  in  motion.  The  time  had  arriv- 
ed, when  it  was  necessary  that  the  first  body  in  the  state  should 
lake  steps  against  the  new  doctrine:  moreover,  it  might  seem 
called  to  act,  inasmuch  as  the  public  tranquillity  was  at  stake. 
Accordingly,  the  Parliament,  "  under  the  impulse  of  a  holy 
zeal  against  the  innovations,"  issued  an  edict,*  "  that  the  Bishop 
of  Paris,  and  certain  other  bishops,  should  be  held  respon- 
sible to  M.  Philippe  Pott,  president  of  requests,  and  Andrew 
Verjus,  its  counsellor,  and  to  Messires  William  Duchesne, 
and  Nicolas  Leclerc,  doctors  of  divinity,  to  institute  and 
conduct  the  trial  of  persons  tainted  with  the  Lutheran  doc- 
trine." 

"And  with  a  purpose  of  making  it  appear  that  those  per- 
sons were  acting  rather  under  the  authority  of  the  Church 
than  of  the  Parliament,  it  pleased  his  Hol-ness,  the  Pope,  to 
forward  a  brief,  dated  20th  May,  1525,  in  which  he  approved 
the  commissioners  that  had  been  named." 

"  Accordingly,  in  pursuance  of  these  measures,  all  who, 
being  called  before  these  deputies,  were  by  the  bishop  or  by 
the  ecclesiastical  judges,  pronounced  huthcrans^  were  handed 
over  to  the  secular  arm, — ^that  is,  to  the  said  Parliament,  who 
forthwith  condemned  them  to  the  flames."!  We  quote  the 
very  words  of  a  manuscript  of  that  age. 

Such  was  the  dreadful  court  of  Inquisition,  appointed,  during 
the  captivity  of  Francis  I.,  to  take  cognizance  of  the  charge 
against  the  Evangelic  Christians  of  France,  as  dangerous  to 
the  state.  Its  members  v/ere  two  laymen  and  two  ecclesiastics ; 
and  one  of  these  latter  was  Duchesne,  next  to  Beda  the  most 
fanatical  of  the  adverse  party.     Shame  had  prevented  their 

♦  De  la  religion  catholique  en  France,  par  de  Lezeau.  MS.  de  la 
bibliotheque  de  Sainte-Genevieve  at  Paris. 

t  The  MS.  of  the  Library  of  St.  Genevieve,  w^hence  I  have  derived 
this  fragment,  bears  the  name  of  Lezeau,  but  in  the  catalogue  that  of 
Lefebre. 


CHARGES    AGAINST    BRICONNET.  463 

placing-  Beda  himself  in  the  commission,  but  his  influence  was 
only  the  more  secured  by  the  precaution. 

Thus  the  machinery  was  set  up. — its  various  springs  in 
order, — and  every  one  of  its  blows  likely  to  be  mortal.  It 
w^ns  an  important  point  to  settle  against  whom  its  first  proceed- 
ings should  be  taken.  Beda,  Duchesne,  and  Leclerc,  M. 
Philip  Pott,  the  president,  and  Andrew  Verjus,  the  counsellor, 
met  to  deliberate  on  this  point.  Was  there  not  the  Count  of 
Monibiun,  the  old  friend  of  Louis  XII.,  and  the  former  am- 
bassador at  the  court  of  Rome,  Bri^onnet,  then  Bishop  of 
Meaux?  This  committee  of  public  safety,  of  1525,  thought 
that  by  singling  out  its  object  from  an  elevated  station,  it 
should  strike  terror  through  all  hearts.  This  consideration 
seems  to  have  decided  them  ;  and  the  venerable  bishop 
received  notice  of  trial. 

Far  from  quailing  before  the  persecution  of  1523,  Briqonnet 
had  persisted,  in  conjunction  with  Lefevre,  in  opposing  the 
popular  superstitions.  The  more  eminent  his  station  in  the 
Church  and  in  the  State,  the  more  fatal  did  the  effect  of  his 
example  appear,  and  the  more  did  his  enemies  judge  it  neces- 
sary to  extort  from  him  a  public  recantation,  or  to  bring  him 
to  a  yet  more  public  retribution.  The  court  of  inquisition  lost 
no  time  in  collecting  and  preparing  the  evidence  against  him. 
He  was  charged  with  harbouring  the  teachers  of  the  new 
heresy :  it  was  alleged  that  a  week  after  the  superior  of  the 
Cordeliers  had  preached  in  St.  Martin's  church  at  Meaux,  by 
direction  of  the  Sorbonne,  to  restore  sound  doctrine, — Briqon- 
net  had  himself  occupied  the  pulpit,  and,  in  publicly  refuting 
him,  had  designated  the  preacher  and  his  brother  Cordeliers 
impostors,  false  prophets,  and  hypocrites ;  and  that,  not  satisfied 
with  that,  he  had,  through  his  official,  summoned  the  superior 
to  appear  personally  to  answer  to  him.* 

It  would  even  seem,  if  w^e  may  trust  to  one  manuscript  of 

the  time,  that  the  Bishop  had  gone  much  further,  and  that  he 

in  person,  attended  by  Lefevre,  had  in  the  autumn  of  1524 

gone  over  his  diocese,  committing  to  the  flames,  wherever  he 

*  Hist,  de  rUniversite,  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  204. 


464  CITED    BEFORE    THE    INQUISITION. 

came,  all  images,  the  crucifix  alone  excepted.  So  daring  a 
conduct,  which  would  go  to  prove  so  much  decision,  combined 
with  much  timidity  in  the  character  of  Bri(^onnet — if  we  give 
credit  to  the  fact — would  not  f.x  upon  him  the  blame  visited 
on  other  iconoclasts ;  for  he  was  at  the  head  of  that  Church 
whose  superstitions  he  then  sought  to  reform,  and  was  there- 
fore acting  at  least  in  the  sphere  of  his  rights  and  duties.* 

However  we  may  regard  it,  in  the  eyes  of  the  enemies  of 
the  Gospel,  the  charge  against  Briqonnet  was  of  a  very  ag- 
gravated character.  He  had  not  merely  impugned  the 
Church's  authority,  he  had  erected  himself  against  the  Sor- 
bonne  itself, — that  society,  all  the  energies  of  which  \vere 
directed  to  the  perpetuation  of  its  own  greatness.  Great, 
therefore,  was  the  joy  in  the  society  at  the  intelligence  that 
its  adversary  was  to  stand  a  trial  before  the  Inquisition,  and 
John  Bochart,  one  of  the  leading  lawyers  of  the  time,  pleading 
before  the  Parliament  against  Bri^onnet,  exclaimed  aloud, — 
"  Neither  the  Bishop,  nor  any  single  indiv'dual  can  lawfully 
exalt  himself,  or  open  his  mouth  against  the  faculty.  Neither 
is  the  faculty  called  to  discuss  or  give  its  reasons  at  the  bar 
of  the  said  Bishop,  whose  duty  it  is  to  offer  no  opposition  to 
the  wisdom  of  that  holy  society,  but  to  esteem  it  as  under  the 
guidance  of  God  himself  "f 

In  conformity  with  this  representation,  the  Parliament  put 
forth  an  edict  on  the  3d  October,  1525,  wherein,  after  author- 
izing the  arrest  of  all  those  who  had  been  informed  against; 

*  In  the  library  of  the  pastors  of  Neufchatel,  is  a  letter  of  Sebville,  in 
which  the  following  passage  occurs:  "  Je  te  notifie  que  I'eveque  de 
Meaux  en  Briepres  Paris  cuvijacobo  Fabro  stajnilensi,  depuis  trois  niois, 
en  visitant  I'eveche  ont  brule  actu  tous  les  images,  reserve  le  crucifix,  et 
sont  personellement  ajournes  a  Paris  a  ce  mois  de  mars  venant  pour  re- 
pondre  coram  svprenia  curia  et  universitate."  I  am  ra.ther  disposed  to 
think  the  fact  truly  stated,  though  Sebville  was  not  on  the  spot,  Mezeray, 
Daniel,  and  Maimbourg  make  no  mention  of  it.  These  Roman  Catho- 
lic writers,  who  are  not  very  circumstantial,  may  have  had  motives  for 
passing  over  the  fact  in  silence,  considering  the  issue  of  the  trial ;  and 
moreover,  the  report  of  Sebville  agrees  with  all  the  known  facts.  How- 
ever, the  matter  is  open  to  question. 

t  Hist,  de  rUniversite  par  Crevier,  v.  p.  204. 


DISMAY    OF     THE    BISHOP.  465 

it  gave  orders  that  the  bishop  should  be  examined  by  Master 
James  Menager  and  Andrew  Verjus,  counsellors  of  the  court, 
touching  the  matters  charged  against  him.* 

The  order  of  the  Parliament  struck  terror  to  the  bishop's 
heart.  Bri<5onnet,  twice  honoured  with  the  post  of  ambassa- 
dor at  Rome, — Briqonnet,  a  bishop,  a  noble,  the  intimate 
friend  of  Louis  XII.  and  Francis  I., — to  undergo  an  interro- 
gatory by  two  counsellors  of  the  court  ....  He  who  had 
fondly  dreamed  that  God  would  kindle  in  the  hearts  of  the 
king,  his  mother,  and  his  sister,  a  flame  that  would  run 
through  the  kingdom,  now  beheld  that  kingdom  turning 
against  him  in  the  endeavour  to  quench  that  fire  which  it  had 
received  from  heaven.  The  king  was  a  captive ;  his  mother 
was  placing  herself  at  the  head  of  the  enemy's  force ;  and 
Margaret,  dismayed  by  the  misfortunes  of  her  country,  no 
longer  dared  to  avert  the  blow  directed  against  her  dearest 
friends,  and  falling  first  on  the  spiritual  father  who  had  so 
often  cheered  and  comforted  her.  Not  long  before  this,  she 
had  written  to  Briqonnet  a  letter  full  of  pious  emotions :  "  Oh !" 
she  had  said,  "  that  this  poor  languid  heart  might  experience 
some  warmth  of  that  love  with  which  I  would  that  it  were 
burnt  to  ashes."t  But  the  time  had  arrived  when  the  question 
was  one  of  literal  burnings.  Such  mystical  expressions  were 
not  now  in  season ;  and  one  who  resolved  to  confess  the  faith 
must  brave  the  scaffold !  The  poor  Bishop,  who  had  been  so 
sanguine  in  the  hope  to  see  the  Reformation  gradually  and 
gently  winning  its  way  in  men's  minds,  trembled  in  dismay 
when  he  found,  that,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  it  must  be  purchased 
at  the  sacrifice  of  life  itself  It  is  possible  such  a  thought 
may  never  before  have  occurred  to  him,  and  he  recoiled  from 
it  in  an  agony  of  fear. 

One  hope,  however,  remained  for  Briqonnet;  and  that 
was,  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  appear  before  the  Chambers 
of  Parliament  in  general  assembly  agreeably  to  the  privilege 

*  Maimbourg  Hist,  du  Calv.  p.  14 

t  MS,  de  la  Biblioth.    Royale,  S.  F.  No.  337. 


466  REFUSED    A    TRIAL    BY    HIS    PEERS, 

belonging,  by  custom,  to  his  rank.  Doubtless,  in  that  august 
and  numerous  assembly,  some  generous  hearts  would  respond 
to  his  appeal,  and  espouse  his  cause.  Accordingly,  he  hum- 
bly petitioned  the  court  to  grant  him  this  indulgence ;  but  his 
enemies  had  equally  with  himself  calculated  the  possible  issue 
of  such  a  hearing.  Had  they  not  learned  a  lesson  when 
Luther,  in  presence  of  the  Germanic  Diet,  at  Worms,  had 
shaken  the  resolution  of  those  who  had  previously  seemed 
most  decided?  Carefully  closing  every  avenue  of  escape,  they 
exerted  themselves  with  such  effect,  that  the  Parliament  on 
the  25th  October,  1525,  in  an  edict  affirming  that  previously 
issued,*  refused  Briqonnet  the  favour  he  had  petitioned  for. 

Behold  the  bishop  of  Meaux,  placed  like  a  common  priest 
of  the  lowest  order  before  Masters  James  Menager  and  An- 
drew Verjus.  Those  two  jurisconsults,  the  obedient  tools  of 
the  Sorbonne,  were  not  likely  to  be  swayed  by  those  higher 
considerations  to  which  the  Chambers  of  Parliament  might 
be  accessible ;  they  were  men  of  facts : — was  it,  or  was  it  not, 
a  fact,  that  the  Bishop  had  set  himself  in  opposition  to  the  so- 
ciety? With  them,  this  was  the  only  question.  Accordingly 
Briqonnet's  conviction  was  secured. 

Whilst  the  sword  was  thus  impending  over  the  head  of  the 
Bishop,  the  monks,  priests,  and  doctors,  made  the  best  use  of 
their  time ; — they  saw  plainly  that  if  Bri^onnet  could  be  per- 
suaded to  retract,  their  interest  would  be  better  served  than  by 
his  martyrdom.  His  death  would  but  inflame  the  zeal  of 
those  who  were  united  with  him  in  their  faith,  while  his 
apostacy  would  plunge  them  in  the  deepest  discouragement. 
They  accordingly  went  to  work.  They  visited  him,  and 
pressed  him  with  their  entreaties.  Martial  Mazurier  espe- 
cially strained  every  nerve  to  urge  him  to  a  fall,  as  he  him 
self  had  fallen.  Arguments  were  not  wanting,  which  might, 
to  Bri<jonnet,  seem  specious.  Would  he  then  take  the  conse- 
quence, and  be  rejected  from  his  office  ?  If  he  remained  in 
the  church,  might  he  not  use  his  influence  with  the  king  and 

♦  Maimbourg  Hist,  du  Calv.  p.  15, 


BRICONNET'S    TEMPTATION    AND    FALL.  467 

the  court  to  an  extent  of  good  which  it  was  not  easy  to  esti- 
mate? What  would  become  of  his  friends  when  his  power 
was  at  an  end  ?  Was  not  his  resistance  likely  to  compromise 
the  success  of  a  Reformation  which,  to  be  salutary  and  last- 
ing, ought  to  be  carried  into  effect  by  the  legitimate  influence 
of  the  clergy?  How  many  would  be  stumbled  by  his  per- 
sisting in  opposition  to  the  Church;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
how  many  would  be  won  over  by  his  concessions?  His  ad- 
visers pretended  that  they,  too,  were  anxious  for  a  Reforma- 
tion ;  "  All  is  going  on  by  insensible  steps,"  said  they;  "  both 
at  the  court,  in  the  city,  and  in  the  provinces,  things  are  pro- 
gressing : — and  would  he,  in  the  mere  lightness  of  his  heart, 
dash  the  fair  prospect  in  view !  After  all,  he  was  not  asked 
to  relinquish  what  he  had  taught,  but  merely  to  comply  with 
the  established  order  of  the  Church.  Could  it  be  well,  at  a 
time  when  France  was  suffering  under  the  pressure  of  so 
many  reverses, — to  stir  up  new  confusions  ?  "  In  the  name 
of  religion,  country,  friends — nay,  even  of  the  Reformation 
itself — consent r^  said  they.  Such  are  the  sophisms  that  are 
the  ruin  of  many  a  noble  enterprise. 

Yet  every  one  of  these  considerations  had  its  influence  on 
the  Bishop's  mind.  The  Tempter,  who  came  to  Jesus  in  the 
wilderness,  presented  himself  to  Bri^onnet  in  fair  and  specious 
colours; — and  instead  of  saying,  with  his  Master,  ^^  Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan  T  he  heard,  listened,  and  considered  his 
sugtrestions.  .  .  .  Thenceforward  his  faithfulness  was  at 
an  end. 

B.iqonnet  had  never  been  embarked,  with  all  his  heart, 
like  Farel  or  Luther  in  the  movement  which  was  then  re- 
moulding the  Church.  There  was  in  him  a  sort  of  mystical 
tend*  ncy,  which  enfeebles  the  souls  in  which  it  gains  place, 
and  takes  from  them  the  firmness  and  con  fid' nee  which  are 
derived  from  a  Faith  that  rests  simply  on  the  word  of  God. 
The  cross  he  was  called  to  take  up,  that  he  might  follow 
Christ,    was  too    heavy    for    hiuj.*      Shaken    in   resolution, 

*  Crucis  statim  oblatae  terrore  perculsus.     (Bezae  Icones.) 


468  RETRACTATION    OF    BRICONNET. 

alarmed,  dizzy,  and  not  knowing  which  way  to  turn,  he  fal- 
tered, and  stumbled  against  the  stone  that  had  been  artfully 
laid  in  his  path*  ...  he  fell; — and,  instead  of  throwing  him- 
self into  the  arms  of  Christ,  he  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  Ma- 
zurier,t  and,  by  a  shameful  recantation,  brought  a  dark  cloud 
upon  the  glory  of  a  noble  fidelity.^ 

Thus  fell  Bri^,onnet,  the  friend  of  Lefevre  and  of  Margaret; 
and  thus  the  earliest  protector  of  the  Gospel  in  France,  denied 
that  good  news  of  Grace,  in  the  criminal  thought  that  his 
abiding  faithful  would  compromise  his  influence  in  the  Church, 
at  the  court,  and  in  the  kingdom.  But  what  his  enemies  re- 
presented as  the  saving  of  his  country,  was,  perhaps,  the 
greatest  of  its  misfortunes.  What  might  not  have  been  the 
consequence,  if  Briqonnet  had  possessed  the  courage  of 
Luthei  ?  If  one  of  the  most  eminent  of  the  French  bishops, 
enjoying  the  respect  of  the  king  and  the  love  of  the  people, 
had  ascended  the  scafTold,  and  there,  like  '  the  poor  of  this 
world,'  sealed,  by  a  courageous  confession  and  a  christian 
death,  the  truth  of  the  Gospel, — would  not  France  herself 
have  been  put  upon  reflection  ?  Would  not  the  blood  of  the 
Bishop  of  Meaux  have  served,  like  that  of  Polycarp  and  Cy- 
prian, as  seed  of  the  church ;  and  should  we  not  have  seen 
those  provinces,  so  famed  for  many  recollections,  emancipating 
themselves,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  from  the  spiritual  dark- 
ness in  which  they  are  still  enveloped? 

Briqonnet  underwent  the  form  of  an  interrogatory,  in  pre- 
sence of  Masters  James  Menager  and  Andrew  Verjus,  who  de- 
clared that  he  had  sufficiently  vindicated  himself  from  the 
crime  charged  against  him.  He  was  then  put  under  pr  nance, 
and  convened  a  synod,  at  which  he  condemned  the  writings 
of  Luther,  retracted  whatever  he  had  taught  at  variance  with 
the  Church's  teaching,   restored  the  custom  of  invocation  of 

♦  Dementatus.     (BezJB  Icones.) 

t  Ut  Episcopus  etiam  desisteret  suis  consiliis  effecit.  (Launoi,  regii 
Navarrae  gymnasii  hist.  p.  6-21.) 

t  Nisi  turpi  palinodia  gloriam  banc  omnem  ipse  sibi  invidisset.  (Bez» 
Icones.) 


COMPARED    WITH    LEFEVRE.  469 

saints,  persuading  such  as  had  left  the  rites  of  the  Church  to 
return  to  them;  and  as  if  desiring  to  leave  no  doubt  as  to  bis 
reconciliation  with  the  Pope  and  the  Sorbonne,  kept  a  solemn 
fast  on  All-saints-eve,  and  issued  orders  for  pompous  proces- 
sions, in  which  he  appeared  personally,  evidencing  still  fur- 
ther his  faith  by  his  largesses  and  apparent  devotion." 

The  fall  of  Bri(^onnet  is  perhaps  the  most  memorable  of  all 
those  recorded  of  that  period.  There  is  no  like  example  of 
one  so  deeply  engaged  in  the  work  of  the  Reformation  so  ab- 
ruptly turning  against  it;  yet  must  we  carefully  consider  both 
his  character  and  his  fall.  Bii<^onnet  stood  relatively  to  Rome, 
as  Lefevre  stood  in  relation  to  the  Reformation.  Both  repre- 
sented a  sort  of  juste  milieu^ — appertaining,  in  stiictness  of 
speech,  to  neither  party, — as  it  were,  one  on  the  right  and  the 
other  on  the  left  centre.  The  Doctor  of  Etaphs  leans  towards 
the  Word;  the  Bishop  inclines  towards  the  Hierarchy  ; — and 
when  these  men,  who  touch  each  other,  are  driven  to  decision, 
we  see  the  one  range  himself  on  the  side  of  Christ,  and  the 
other  on  the  side  of  Rome.  We  may  add,  that  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  think  that  Briqonnet  can  have  entirely  laid  aside  the 
convictions  of  his  faith  ;  and  at  no  time  did  the  Roman  doctors 
put  confidence  in  him  ;  not  even  after  he  had  retracted.  But 
he  did,  as  did  afterwards  the  Bishop  of  Cambray,  whom  he 
in  some  points  resembled ;  he  flattered  himself  he  might  out- 
wardly submit  to  the  Pope's  authority,  while  he  in  his  heart 
continued  subject  to  the  divine  Word.  Such  weakness  is  in- 
compatible with  the  principle  of  the  Reformation.  Bri^onnet 
was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  quietist  or  mystic 
school;  and  it  is  well  known  that  one  of  the  leading  maxims 
of  that  school  has  ever  been  to  settle  down  in,  and  adapt  itself 
to.  the  church  in  which  it  exists,  whatever  that  church  may 
be. 

The  mournful  fall  of  Bri^onnet  was  felt  as  a  shock  to  the 

hearts  of  his  former  friends,  and  was  the  sad  forerunner  of 

those  deplorable  apostacies  to  which  the  friendship  of  the 

world  so  often  led,  in  another  age  of  French  history.     The 

*  Mezeray,  ii.  p.  981 ;  Daniel,  v.  p.  614;  Moreri,  articleBnconnet. 
VOL.    III.  40 


470  BEDA  ATTACKS  LEFEVRE. 

man  who  seemed  to  hold  the  reins  of  the  movement  was  ab- 
ruptly precipitated  from  his  seat,  and  the  Reformation  was,  in 
that  country,  thenceforth  to  pursue  its  course  without  a  leader 
or  guide,  in  lowliness  and  secresy.  But  the  disciples  of  the 
Gospel  from  that  time  lifted  up  their  eyes,  regarding,  with 
more  fixedness  of  faith,  their  Head  in  heaven,  whose  un- 
changing faithfulness  their  souls  had  known. 

The  Sorbonne  was  triumphant.  A  great  advance  toward 
the  final  ruin  of  the  Reformation  in  France  had  been  made, 
and  it  was  important  to  follow  up  their  success.  Lefevre  stood 
next  after  Bri^onnet,  and  Beda  had,  therefore,  without  loss  of 
time,  turned  his  hostility  against  him,  publishing  a  tract 
against  the  celebrated  doctor,  full  of  such  gross  calumnies, 
that  we  have  Erasmus's  judgment  of  them,  that  "  even  cob- 
blers and  smiths  could  lay  the  finger  on  the  falsehood  of 
them."  What  seemed  above  all  to  enrage  him  was  that  doc- 
trine o{  Justification  by  Faith,  which  Lefevre  had  proclaimed 
in  the  ears  of  Christians.  To  this  Beda  continually  recurred 
as  an  article  which,  according  to  him,  overturned  the  Church. 
"  What !"  he  exclaimed,  "  Lefevre  affirms  that  whoever  as- 
cribes to  himself  the  power  to  save  himself  will  be  lost,  whilst 
whosoever,  laying  aside  all  strength  of  his  own,  casts  himself 

into  the  arms  of  Christ,  shall  be  saved Oh,  what 

heresy!  thus  to  teach  the  uselessness  of  meritorious  works. 
.  .  .  .  What  hellish  doctrine  ! — what  delusion  of  the  devil! 
Let  us  oppose  it  with  all  our  power."* 

Instantly  that  engine  of  persecution,  which  took  effect  in 
the  recantation  or  in  the  death  of  its  victims,  was  turned  against 
Lefevre  ;  and  already  hopes  were  entertained  that  he  would 
share  the  fate  of  Leclerc  the  wool-comber,  o;  that  of  the  bishop 
Bri^onnet.  His  trial  was  quickly  gone  through;  and  a  de- 
cr^e  of  Parliament  condemned  nine  propositions  extracted  from 
his  cofiimentaries  on  the  Gospels,  and  placed  his  translation 
of  th^"  Scriptures  in  the  list  of  prohibited  works.f 

*   Perpendens  perniciosissimamdemonis  fallaciam.  .  .  .  Occurri  quan- 
tum valui.     (Nat.  Bedas  Apolog.  adv.  Lutheranos,  fol.  42.) 
t  I.  Lelong  Biblioth,  sacree,  2d  part,  p.  44. 


LEFEVRE    AT    STRASBURG.  471 

These  measures  were  felt  by  Lefevre  to  be  only  the  pre- 
lude of  others.  From  the  first  intimation  of  the  approaching- 
persecution  he  had  clearly  perceived,  that  in  the  absence  of 
Francis  the  First  he  would  not  be  able  to  bear  up  under  his 
enemies'  attacks,  and  that  the  time  had  arrived  to  act  on  the 
direction, — "  Whe?i  they  fersecute  you  in  one  city  Jiee  ye  unto 
another.''^*  Lefevre  quitted  Meaux,  where,  ever  since  the 
bishop's  apostacy,  he  had  experienced  nothing  but  bitterness 
of  soul,  and  had  found  his  efforts  paralysed  ;  and  as  he  looked 
back  upon  his  persecutors,  he  shook  off  the  dust  from  off  his 
feet, — "  not  to  call  down  evil  upon  them,  but  in  testimony  of 
the  evils  that  were  coming-  upon  them  ;  for."  says  he,  "  as  that 
dust  is  shaken  from  off  our  feet,  just  so  are  they  cast  off  from 
the  favour  and  presence  of  the  Lord."t 

The  persecutors  beheld  their  victim  at  large ;  but  they  de- 
rived comfort  from  the  thought  that,  at  least,  France  was  de- 
livered from  this  father  of  heresy. 

Lefevre,  a  fugitive  from  his  enemies,  arrived  at  Strasburg 
under  an  assumed  name.  There  he  was  immediately  intro' 
duced  to  the  friends  of  the  Reformation  ;  and  what  must  have 
been  his  joy,  to  hear  publicly  taught  that  same  Gospel  of 
which  he  had  caught  the  first  gleams  in  the  Church  ; — why, 
it  was  just  his  own  faith  !  It  was  exactly  what  he  had  in- 
tended to  express !  It  wa.s  as  if  he  had  been  a  second  time 
born  to  the  Christian  life.  Gerard  Roussel,  one  of  those  Evan- 
gelical Christians,  who,  nevertheless,  like  the  Doctor  of  Eta- 
ples,  attained  not  to  complete  enfranchisement,  had  been  like- 
wise compelled  to  quit  France.  Both  together  attended  the 
lectures  of  Capito  and  of  Bucer,^  and  met  in  private  inter- 
course with  those  faithful  teachers.^  It  was  even  rumoured 
that  they  had  been  commissioned  to  do  so,  by  Margaret,  the 

*  St.  Matth.  X.  U— 23 

t  Gluod  excussi  sunt  a  facie  Domini  sicut  pulvis  ille  excussus  est  a 
pedibus.     (Faber  in  Ev,  Matth.  p,  40.) 

%  Faber  stapulensis  et  Gerardus  Rufus,  clam  e  Gallia  profecti,  Capito- 
nem  et  Bucerum  audierunt.     (Melch.  Adam.  Vita  Captonis  p.  90.) 

§  De  omnibus  doctrins  praecipuis  locis  cum  ipsis  disseruerint.     (lb.) 


472  MEETS    FAREL. 

king's  sister.*  But  the  adoring  contemplation  of  the  ways  of 
God,  rather  than  polemical  questions,  engaged  Lefevre's  at- 
tention. Casting  a  glance  upon  the  state  of  Christendom,  and 
filled  with  wonder  at  what  he  beheld  passing  on  its  stage, 
moved  with  feelings  of  gratitude,  and  full  of  hopeful  anticipa- 
tion, he  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  and  prayed  to  the  Lord 
"to  perfect  that  which  he  saw  then  beginning."! 

At  Strasburg  one  especially  agreeable  surprise  awaited  him 
— his  pupil,  his  'son  in  the  faith,'  Farel, — from  whom  he  had 
been  par^d  by  persecution  for  nearly  three  years, — had 
arrivr  '  there  just  before.  The  aged  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne 
found,  in  his  young  pupil,  a  man  in  the  vigour  of  life,  a  chris- 
tian, '  strong  in  the  faith,' — and  Farel  grasped  with  affectionate 
respect  the  shrivelled  hand  which  had  guided  his  earliest  steps, 
conscious  of  the  liveliest  joy  at  thus  recovering  his  spiritual 
father  in  the  society  of  faithful  men,  and  in  a  city  that  had 
received  the  truth.  They  attended  in  company  the  pure 
teaching  of  eminent  teachers, — broke  bread  together  in  the 
supper  of  the  Lord,  according  to  Christ's  institution,  and 
received  touching  proofs  of  the  love  of  the  brethren.  "  Do 
you  recollect,"  said  Farel  to  Lefevre,  "  an  expression  you  once 
let  fall  to  me,  when  we  were  both  as  yet  in  darkness,  '  Wil- 
liam  !  God  will  renew  the  loorld  ;  and  you  will  live  to  see 
it  /" — See  here  the  beginning  of  what  you  then  foretold." 
"  Yes,"  answered  the  pious  old  man ;  God  is  renewing  the 
world.  .  .  .  O,  my  son,  continue  to  preach  boldly  the  holy 
Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ."  j: 

Lefevre,  from  an  excess  of  prudence  doubtless,  chose  to 
remain  incognito  at  Strasburg,  and  took  the  name  oi  Anthony 
Peregrinus,  whilst  Roussel  chose  that  of  Solnin.  But  the 
celebrated  doctor  could  not  elude  notice;  and  soon  the  whole 
city,  even  to  the  very  children,  saluted  him  with  marks  of 

*  Missi  a  Margaretha  regis  Francisci  sorore.  (Mekh.  Ad.  Vit.  Capi- 
tonis,  p.  90.) 

t  Farel  a  tous  seigneurs,  peuples  et  pasteu-s. 

t  Q.uo(]  et  pius  senex  fatebatur;  meque  hortabaturi  pergerem  inannun» 
tiatione  sacri  Evangelii.     (Farellus  Pellicano  Hotting.  H.  L.  vi.  p.  It.) 


BERQUIN    IMPRISONED.  473 

respect.f  He  did  not  dwell  by  himself,  but  lodged  in  the 
same  house  with  Capito,  Farel,  Roussel,  and  Vedastus  (known 
and  loved  for  his  retiring  diffidence,)  and  a  certain  converted 
Jew  named  Simon.  The  houses  of  Capito,  CEcolampadius, 
Zvvingle,  and  Luther,  offered  a  kind  of  open  table  and  lodging. 
Such,  in  those  days,  was  the  attraction  of  'brotherly  love.' 
Many  Frenchmen,  besides,  were  residing  in  this  city  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine,  and  there  composed  a  church  in  which 
Farel  often  preached  the  doctrine  of  Salvation.  Such  Chris- 
tian communion  soothed  the  feeling  of  banishment  from  their 
native  land. 

Whilst  these  brethren  were  thus  enjoying  the  asylum 
afforded  them  by  brotherly  love,  those  in  Paris  and  other 
parts  of  France  were  exposed  to  great  danger.  Bri(^onnet 
had  recanted — Lefevre  was  beyond  the  frontier — all  this  was 
something  gained,  but  the  Sorbonne  was  still  without  those 
public  examples  of  punishment  which  it  had  advised.  Beda 
and  his  followers  were  without  victims.  One  man  tnere  was 
who  gave  them  more  annoyance  than  either  Bri^onnet  or 
Lefevre,  and  he  was  Louis  Berquin.  The  gentleman  of 
Artois,  more  fearless  than  his  tutors,  allowed  no  opportunity 
to  pass  of  teazing  the  monks  and  theologians,  and  unmasking 
their  fanaticism.  Passing  from  the  capital  to  the  provinces, 
he  would  collect  the  writings  of  Erasmus  and  of  Luther. 
These  he  would  translate,!  at  other  times  himself  composing 
controversial  tracts,  and  defending  and  disseminating  the  new 
teaching  with  the  zeal  of  a  young  convert.  Louis  Berquin 
was  denounced  by  the  bishop  of  Amiens,  Beda  seconded  the 
accusation,  and  the  Parliament  committed  him  to  prison. 
"  This  one,"  said  the  enemy,  "shall  not  escape  so  easily  as 
Briqonnet  or  Lefevre."  But  their  bolts  and  bars  had  no 
effect  on  Berquin.  In  vain  did  the  superior  of  the  Carthusians 
and  other  persons  labour  to  persuade  him  to  apologise ;  he 
declared   he  would  not  retract  an  iota.     "  It  seemed  then," 

♦  Nam  latere  cupiunt  et  tamen  pueris  noti  sunt.     (Capito   Zwing. 
Epp.  p.  p.  439.) 

t  Erasmi  Ep.  p.  923. 

40* 


474  ERASMUS    ATTACKED, 

says  a  chronicler,  "  that  no  way  remained  but  to  send  him  to 
the  stake."* 

Margaret,  in  consternation  at  what  had  happened  to  Bri- 
(jonnet,  dreaded  to  see  Berquin  dragged  to  that  scafTjld  which 
the  bishop  had  so  shamefully  eluded.  Not  daring  to  visit  him 
in  his  prison,  she  endeavoured  to  convey  a  few  words  of  con- 
solation to  him — and  he  may  have  been  upon  her  heart — > 
when  the  princess  composed  that  touching  complaint  in  which 
a  prisoner  thus  addresses  the  Lord: 

O  refuge  free  to  all  who  feel  distress  ! 
Their  help  and  stay  ! — Judge  of  the  fatherless  ! 
Exhaustless  treasure  of  consoling  grace ! 
The  iron  doars,  the  moat,  the  massive  wall 
Keep  far  from  me, — a  lone,  forgotten  thrall — 
Friend,  kinsman,  brother, — each  familiar  face : 
Yet  mercy  meets  even  this  extremity ; 
For  iron  doors  can  never  shut  out   lyiee! — 
Thou,  Lord !  art  with  me  here, — here  in  this  dismal  place. t 

But  Margaret  did  not  rest  there,  she  immediately  wrote  to 
her  brother  to  solicit  a  pardon  for  her  attendant.  Fortunate 
might  she  deem  herself  if  her  efforts  were  not  too  late  to  rescue 
him  from  the  hatred  of  his  enemies. 

While  awaiting  this  victim,  Beda  resolved  to  strike  terror 
into  the  adversaries  of  the  Sorborme  and  monks,  by  crushing 
the  most  celebrated  man  among  them.  Erasmus  had  declared 
himself  against  Luther : — But  this  mattered  little  ; — if  the  ruiri 
of  Erasmus  could  be  accomplished  then  beyond  all  doubt  the 
destruction  of  Farel,  of  Luther,  and  their  associates  would  be 
sealed.  The  surest  way  of  reaching  our  mark  is  to  aim 
beyond  it.  Let  the  ecclesiastical  power  only  set  its  heel  oii 
the  neck  of  the  philosopher  of  Rotterdam,  and  where  was  the 
heretical  doctor  who  could  hope  to  escape  the  vengeance  of 
Rome?  The  attack  had  already  been  commenced  by  Lecou- 
turier,  better  known  by  his  Latin  name  of  Sutor,  who,  from 
the  solitude  of  a  Carthusian  cell,  launched  against  Erasmus  a 

*  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  103. 

t  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  Princesses,  1.  p.  445. 


BY    THE    MONKS    AND    THE    SORBONNE.  475 

publication  of  the  most  violent  character,  in  which  he  called 
his  adversaries,  theologasters,  and  miserable  apes,  and  charged 
them  with  scandalous  off  nces,  with  heresy  and  blasphemy. 
Handling-  subjects  which  he  did  not  understand,  he  reminded 
his  readers,  as  Erasmus  sarcastically  remarks,  of  the  old 
proverb: — "  Ne  sutor  ultra  crepidam." 

Beda  hastened  to  the  assistance  of  his  confederate.  He 
ordered  Erasmus  to  write  no  more  ;*  and  himself  taking  up 
the  pen,  which  he  had  enjoined  the  greatest  writer  of  the  age 
to  lay  down,  he  made  a  selection  of  all  the  calumnies  which 
the  monks  had  invented  against  the  philosopher,  translated 
them  into  French,  and  formed  them  into  a  book  which  he  cir- 
culated at  court  and  in  the  city,  in  the  hope  that  all  France 
would  join  in  the  outcry  he  was  raising.f  This  book  was 
the  signal  for  a  general  onset ;  the  enemies  of  Erasmus  started 
up  on  every  side.  Nicolas  D'Ecmond,  an  old  Carmelite  of 
Louvain  used  to  exclaim,  as  often  as  he  mounted  the  pulpit, 
"  There  is  no  differmce  between  Erasmur  and  Luther,  unless 
it  be  that  Erasmus  is  the  greater  heretic  of  the  two  ;"|^ — and 
wherever  the  Carmelite  might  be, — at  table  or  on  a  journey, 
on  the  land  or  on  the  water, — he  was  raving  against  Erasmus 
the  heresiarch  and  forger.^  The  faculty  of  Paris,  excited  by 
these  clamours,  drew  up  a  decree  of  censure  against  the  illus- 
trious writer. 

Erasmus  was  astounded.  Was  this,  then,  the  fruit  of  alf 
his  politic  forbearance, — was  it  for  this  that  he  had  even  en- 
gaged in  hostilities  against  Luther?  He,  with  an  intrepidity 
which  no  one  else  had  displayed,  had  flung  himself  into  the 
breach, — and  was  he  now  to  be  trampled  down  only  that  the 
common  enemy  might  be  reached  more  safely  over  his  pros- 
trate body  ?  His  indignation  is  raised  at  the  thought,  he  turns 
sharply  round,  and  while  yet  warm  from  his  attack  upon 
Luther,  deals  his  retributive  blows  on  the  fanatical  doctors 

*  Primum  jubet  ut  desinam  scribere.     (Erasm.  Epp.  p.  921  ) 
t  Ut  totam  Galliara  in  me  concitaret.     (lb.  p.  886.) 
t  Nisi  quod  Erasmus  esset  major  haereticus.     (lb.  p.  915.) 
S  duoties  in  conviciis,  in  vehiculis,  in  navibus  .  .  .  (lb.) 


476      APPEALS    TO    THE    PARLIAMENT    AND    THE    KINO. 

who  have  assailed  him  in  the  rear.  Never  was  his  corres- 
pondence  more  active  than  now.  He  takes  a  survey  of  his 
position,  and  his  piercing  eye  immediately  discovers  in  whose 
hands  rests  the  balance  of  his  fate.  He  hesitates  not  an  in- 
stant; — he  will  at  once  lay  his  complaint  and  his  protest  at 
the  feet  of  the  Sorbonne, — of  the  Parliament, — of  the  King, — 
of  the  Emperor  himself — "  How  was  this  fearful  flame  of 
Lutheranism  kindled  ?" — says  he,  writing  to  those  among  the 
divines  of  the  Sorbonne  in  whose  impartiality  he  still  reposed 
some  confidence: — "  How  has  it  been  fanned  into  fury, — ex- 
cept such  outrages  as  these  which  Beda  has  committed  ?*  In 
war, — a  soldier  who  has  done  his  duty  receives  a  reward  from 
his  generals, — but  the  only  reward  that  you, — the  generals  in 
this  war, — have  to  bestow  upon  me, — is  to  deliver  me  up  to 
the  calmunies  of  Beda  and  Lecouturier !" 

"  What !"  he  exclaims,  addressing  the  Parliament  of  Paris, 
"  when  I  had  these  Lutherans  on  my  hands, — when,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  Emperor,  the  Pope  and  the  other  princes, 
I  was  struggling  against  them,  even  at  the  peril  of  my 
life,  must  I  be  assailed  behmd  my  back  by  the  foul  libels  of 
Lecouturier  and  Beda  1  Ah,  if  evil  fortune  had  not  deprived 
us  of  king  Francis,  I  might  have  appealed  to  that  avenger  of 
the  muses  against  these  insults  of  the  barbarians. f  But  now 
it  rests  with  you  to  restrain  their  malignity." 

No  sooner  did  an  opportunity  present  itself  of  conveying  a 
letter  to  the  king,  than  he  wrote  to  him  also.  His  penetrating 
glance  detected  in  these  fanatical  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  the 
germs  of  the  League,  the  precursors  of  the  three  Priests,  who 
at  a  later  period  were  to  set  up  the  sixteen  against  the  last  of 
the  race  of  Valois  ; — his  genius  enabled  him  to  warn  the  king 
of  future  crimes  and  miseries  which  the  experience  of  his  suc- 
cessors would  but  too  fully  realize. — "  Religion,"  said  he,  ''  is 
their  pretext, — but  their  true  aim  is  despotic  power,  to  be  ex- 

♦  Hoc  gravissimum  Lutheri  incendium,  unde  natum,  unde  hue  pro- 
gressum,  nisi  ex  Beddaicis  intemperiis.     (Erasm.  Epp.  p.  887.) 

1  Musaruin  vindicem  adversus  barbarorum  incursienes. — (Ibid. 
2070.) 


MORE    VICTIMS    IN    LORRAINE.  477 

ercised  even  over  princes. — They  are  moving  onward  with  a 
steady  step,  though  their  path  lies  under  ground.  Should  the 
sovereign  not  be  inclined  to  submit  himself  in  all  things  to 
their  guidance,  they  will  immediately  declare  that  he  may  be 
deposed  by  the  Church ;  that  is  to  say,  by  a  few  false  monks, 
and  a  few  false  divines  conspiring  together  against  the  public 
peace."*  Erasmus,  when  writing  to  Francis  the  First,  could 
not  have  touched  a  more  sensitive  string. 

Finally,  that  he  might  still  more  effectually  secure  himself 
against  the  malice  of  his  enemies,  Erasmus  invoked  the  pro- 
tection of  Charles  the  Fifth  himself — "  Invincible  Emperor," 
said  he,  "  a  horrible  outcry  has  been  raised  against  me,  by 
men  who,  under  the  pretence  of  religion,  are  labouring  to 
establish  their  own  tyrannical  power,  and  to  gratify  their  own 
sensual  appetites.f  I  am  fighting  under  your  banner,  and 
under  the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  by  your  wisdom 
and  your  authority  that  peace  must  be  restored  to  the  Chris- 
tian world." 

It  was  in  language  like  this  that  the  prince  of  literature  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  rulers  of  the  age.  The  danger  which 
impended  over  his  head  was  averted ;  the  secular  power  inter- 
posed, and  the  vultures  were  compelled  to  abandon  the  prey 
which  in  fancy  they  had  already  clutched.  They  then  turned 
their  eyes  elsewhere  in  search  of  other  victims,  and  they  were 
soon  found. 

It  was  in  Lorraine  first  that  blood  was  appointed  to  flow 
afresh.  From  the  earliest  days  of  the  Reformation,  there  had 
been  an  alliance  in  fanaticism  between  Paris  and  the  country 
of  the  Guises.  If  Paris  was  at  peace  for  a  while,  Lorraine 
took  up  the  work,  and  then  Paris  began,  again,  to  give  time 
for  Nancy  and  Metz  to  recruit  their  strength.  The  first  blow, 
apparently,  was  destined  to  fall  upon  an  excellf^^nt  man,  one  of 
the  refugees  of  Basle,  a  friend  of  Farel  and  Toussaint.     The 

*  Niai  princeps  ipsorum  voluntati  per  omnia  paruerit,  dicetur  fautor 
haereticorum  et  destitui  poterit  )  er  ecclesiam.     (Er.  Epp.  p.  1108.) 

t  Simulato  religionis  praetextu,  ventris  tyrannidisque  suae,  negotiuin 
©gentes.    (Ibid,  p,  962.) 


478  BONAVENTURE    RENEL. 

Chevalier  d'Esch,  while  residing  at  Metz,  had  not  been  able 
to  screen  himself  from  the  suspicions  of  the  priests.  It  was 
ascertained  that  he  carried  on  a  correspondence  with  Christians 
of  the  Evangelic  Faith,  and  on  that  discovery  he  was  throv^^n 
into  prison  at  Pont-a-Mousson,  a  place  situated  five  miles  from 
Metz,  on  the  banks  of  the  Moselle.*  The  tidings  filled  the 
French  refugees,  and  the  Swiss  themselves,  with  the  deepest 
concern.  "  Alas  !  for  that  innocent  heart !"  exclaimed  CEco- 
lampadius :  "  I  have  full  confidence  in  the  Lord,"  added  he, 
"that  he  will  preserve  this  man  to  us,  either  in  life  as  a 
preacher  of  righteousness,  to  make  known  His  name ;  or  in 
death  to  confess  Him  as  a  martyr."f  But  at  the  same  time 
CEcolampadius  censured  the  thoughtlessness, — the  precipi- 
tancy,— and  what  he  termed  the  imprudent  zeal  for  which 
the  French  refugees  were  distinguished.  "  I  wish,"  said  he, 
"  that  my  dear  friends,  the  worthy  gentlemen  of  France,  would 
not  be  so  eager  to  return  to  their  own  country,  until  they 
have  made  all  due  enquiries  beforehand  ;  for  the  devil  lays 
his  snares  everywhere.  Nevertheless,  let  them  obey  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  and  may  that  Spirit  never  forsake  them."  J 

There  was  reason,  indeed,  to  tremble  for  the  fate  of  the 
chevalier.  The  rancour  of  the  enemy  had  broken  out  in 
Lorraine  with  redoubled  fury.  Brother  Bonaventure  Renel, 
the  principal  of  the  cordeliers,  and  the  confessor  of  Duke  An- 
thony the  Good,  a  man  of  an  audacious  temper,  and  of  very 
questionable  moral  character,  allowed  that  weak  prince,  who 
reigned  from  1508  to  1544,  a  large  measure  of  license  in  his 
pleasures ;  and  persuaded  him  on  the  other  hand,  by  way  of 
atonement,  as  it  were,  to  exercise  a  merciless  severity  against 
all  innovators.  "  It  is  quite  sufficient  for  any  one,"  said  tho 
prince,  profiting  by  the  able  instructions  of  Renel,  "  if  he  can 
repeat  the  Pater  and  the  Ave-Maria ;  the  greatest  doctors 
are  those  who  occasion  the  greatest  disorders."!^ 

*  Noster  captus  detinetur  in  Bundamosa  quinque  millibus  a  Metis, 
(GEcol.  Farello  Epp.  p.  201 .) 

t  Vel  vivum  confessorem,  vel  mortuum  martyrem  servahit.     (Ibid.) 
X  Nollem  carissimos  dominos  meosGallos  properare  in  Galliam.  (Ibid.) 
§  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  97. 


COURAGE  OF  PASTOR  SCHUCH.  479 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  1524,  information  was  con- 
veyed to  the  Duke's  court,  that  a  pastor,  named  Schuch,  was 
preaching  a  new  kind  of  doctrine  in  the  town  of  Saint  Hip- 
polytp,  at  the  foot  of  the  Vosages.  "  Let  them  return  to  their 
duty,"  said  Anthony  the  Good,  "or  I  will  march  against  the 
town,  and  lay  it  waste  with  fire  and  sword!"* 

Hereupon  the  faithful  pastor  resolved  to  devote  himself  for 
his  flock :  he  repaired  to  Nancy,  where  the  prince  resided. 
Immediately  on  his  arrival,  he  was  lodged  in  a  noisome  pri- 
son, under  the  custody  of  brutal  and  cruel  men : — and  now  at 
last  brother  Bonaventure  had  the  heretic  in  his  power.  It 
was  he  who  presided  at  the  tribunal  before  which  he  was  ex- 
amined. "  Heretic !"  cried  he,  addressing  the  prisoner,  "  Judas ! 
Devil !"  Schuch,  preserving  the  utmost  tranquillity  and  com- 
posure, made  no  reply  to  these  insults ;  but  holding  in  his  hand 
a  little  Bible,  all  covered  with  notes  which  he  had  written  in 
it,  he  meekly  and  earnestly  confessed  Jesus  Christ  and  him 
crucified!  On  a  sudden,  he  assumed  a  more  animated  mien, 
— stood  up  boldly,  raised  his  voice  as  if  moved  by  the  Spirit 
from  on  high, — and,  looking  his  judges  in  the  face,  denounced 
against  them  the  fearful  judgments  of  God. 

Brother  Bonaventure  and  his  companions,  inwardly  appall- 
ed, yet  agitated  with  rage,  rushed  upon  him  at  once  with  ve- 
hement cries,  snatched  away  the  Bible,  from  which  he  read 
those  menaching  words, — and  "  raging  like  so  many  mad 
dogs,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  because  they  could  not  w  reak 
their  fury  on  the  doctrine,  carried  the  book  to  their  convent, 
and  burnt  it  there."t 

The  whole  court  of  Lorraine  resounded  with  the  obstinacy 
and  presumption  of  the  minister  of  St.  Hippolyte;  and  the 
prince,  impelled  by  curiosity  to  hear  the  heretic,  resolved  to 
be  present  at  his  final  examination. — stcretly,  however,  and 
conceaUd  from  the  view  of  the  spectators.  But  as  the  inter- 
rogatory was  conducted  in  Latin,  he  could  not  understand  it; 
only  he  was  struck  with  the  stedfast  aspect  of  the  minister, 

*  Actes  des  Martyrs,  p.  9.5. 

t  Actes  des  Martyrs,  recueilHs  par  Crespin,  en  fr.  p.  97. 


480  MARTYRDOM    OF    SCHUCH. 

Avho  seemed  to  be  neither  vanquished  nor  abashed.  Indignant 
at  this  obstinacy,  Anthony  the  Good  started  from  his  seat,  and 
said  as  he  retired, — "  Why  dispute  any  longer?  He  denies 
the  sacrament  of  the  mass;  let  them  proceed  to  execution 
against  him."*  Schuch  was  immediately  condemned  to  be 
burnt  alive.  When  the  sentence  was  communicated  to  him, 
he  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  mildly  made  answer  ;  "  I 
was  glad  when  they  said  unto  me,  Let  us  go  into  the  house  of 
the  Lord."t 

On  the  i9th  August,  1525,  the  whole  city  of  Nancy  was 
in  motion.  The  bells  gave  notice  of  the  death  of  a  heretic. 
The  mournful  procession  set  out.  It  must  pass  before  the 
convent  of  the  Cordeliers,  and  there  the  whole  fraternity  were 
gathered  in  joyful-  expectation  before  the  door.  As  soon  as 
Schuch  made  his  appearance,  Father  Bonaventure,  pointing 
to  the  carved  images  over  the  convent  gateway,  cried  out, 
"  Heretic,  pay  honour  to  God,  his  mother,  and  the  saints!" — 
"O  hypocrites!"  replied  Schuch,  {Standing  erect  before  those 
pieces  of  wood  and  stone,  "  God  will  destroy  you,  and  bring 
your  deceits  to  light!" 

When  the  martyr  reached  the  place  of  execution  his  books 
were  first  burnt  in  his  presence,  and  ih»^n  he  was  called  upon 
to  recant;  but  he  refused,  saying,  "Thou,  God,  hast  called 
me,  and  thou  wilt  strengthen  me  to  the  end ;":{: — and  immedi- 
ately he  began  with  a  loud  voice,  to  repeat  the  51st  Psalm, 
"Have  mercy  upon  m*^,  O  God!  according  to  thy  loving- 
kindness!"  Having  mounted  the  pile,  he  continued  to  recite 
the  psalm  until  the  smoke  and  flimes  stifled  his  voice. 

Thus  did  the  persecutors  in  France  and  Lorraine  behold  a 
renewal  of  their  triumphs, — their  counsels  had  at  length  been 
followed.  At  Nancy  the  ashes  of  a  heretic  had  been  scattered 
to  the  winds:  this  seemed  a  challenge  addressed  to  the  capital 
of  France.     What !  should  Beda  and  Lecouturier  be  the  last 

*  Histoire  de  Francois  ler  par  Gaillard,  iv.  p.  233. 
t  Psalm  cxxii.  1. 

t  Eum  auctorem  vocationis  suae  atque  conservatorem  ad  extremum 
usque  spiritual  recognovit.     (Acta  Mart.  p.  202.) 


PETER  CAROLI  AND  BEDA,  481 

to  show  their  zeal  for  the  Pope  ?  Rather  let  one  blazing  pile 
serve  as  the  signal  for  another,  and  heresy,  swept  from  the 
soil  of  France,  would  soon  be  driven  back  beyond  the  Rhine, 

But  Beda  was  not  to  pursue  his  successful  career,  until  a 
contest,  half  serious,  half  ludicrous,  had  taken  place  between 
him  and  one  of  those  men  with  whom  the  struggle  against 
Popery  was  only  a  capricious  effort  of  the  intellect,  not  the 
solemn  engagement  and  willing  duty  of  the  heart. 

Among  the  learned  men  whom  Bri(^onnet  had  allured  to 
his  diocese  was  a  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne,  named  Peter  Caroli, 
a  man  of  a  vain  and  frivolous  cast  of  mind,  and  as  quarrelsome 
and  litigious  as  Beda  himself  Caroli  viewed  the  new  doctrine 
as  the  means  of  making  an  impression,  and  of  thwarting  Beda, 
whose  ascendancy  he  could  not  endure. — Accordingly  on  his 
return  from  Meaux  to  Paris  he  caused  a  great  sensation,  by 
introducing  into  every  pulpit  what  was  called  "the  new  way 
of  preaching."  Then  began  a  pernicious  strife  between  the 
two  doctors;  it  was  Mow  for  blow  and  trick  for  trick.  Beda 
cites  Caroli  before  the  Sorbonne,  and  Caroli  summons  him 
before  the  episcopal  court  to  answer  for  an  infringement  of 
privilege.  The  Sorbonne  proceeds  with  the  enquiry,  and 
Caroli  gives  intimation  of  an  appeal  to  the  Parliament.  A 
provisional  sentence  excludes  him  from  the  pulpit,  and  still  he 
goes  on  preaching  in  all  the  churches  of  Paris.  Being 
absolutely  forbidden  to  preach  in  any  pulpit,  he  takes  to  pub- 
licly expounding  the  Psalms  in  the  college  of  Cambray.  The 
Sorbonne  prohibits  him  from  continuing  that  practice,  but  he 
asks  permission  to  conclude  the  exposition  of  the  22d  Psalm 
which  he  has  begun.  Finally,  on  this  petition  being  rejected, 
he  posts  the  following  placard  on  the  college-gates: — '■'■Peter 
Caroli,  being  desirous  to  obey  the  ijijunctions  of  the  sacred 
faculty,  has  ceased  to  teach  ;  he  will  resume  his  lectures, 
whenever  it  shall  please  God,  at  the  verse  where  he  left  off: 
'They  have  pierced  my  hands  and  my  feet.'  "  Thus 
had  Beda  at  length  found  an  opponent  with  whom  he  Vv'as 
fairly  matched.  If  Caroli  had  defended  the  truth  in  right 
earnest,  the  stake  would  have  been  his  reward ;  but  he  was 

VOL.    III.  41 


482  THE    MARTYRDOM    OF    JAMES    PAVANNE, 

of  too  carnal  a  spirit  to  expose  himself  to  the  risk  of  death. 
How  could  capital  punishment  be  inflicted  on  a  man  who 
laughed  his  judges  out  of  countenance?  Neither  the  episcopal 
court,  nor  the  parliament,  nor  the  council,  could  ever  proceed 
to  a  definitive  judgment  in  his  cause.  Two  such  men  as 
Caroli  would  have  wearied  out  the  activity  of  Beda  himself; — 
but  two  like  him  the  Reformation  did  not  produce.* 

This  troublesome  contest  concluded,  Beda  applied  himself 
to  matters  of  more  serious  concern.  Happily  for  the  syndic 
of  the  Sorbonne,  there  were  men  who  gave  persecution  a 
better  hold  of  them  than  Caroli.  Briqonnet,  indeed,  and 
Erasmus,  and  Lefevre,  and  Berquin  had  escaped  him ;  but 
since  he  cannot  reach  these  distinguished  personages,  he  will 
content  himself  with  meaner  victims.  The  poor  youth,  James 
Pavanne,  ever  since  his  abjuration  at  Christmas,  1524,  had 
done  nothing  but  weep  and  sigh.  He  was  constantly  seen 
with  a  gloomy  brow,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  groaning 
inwardly,  and  mutiering  reproaches  against  himself  for  having 
denied  his  Lord  and  Saviour. f 

Pavanne  undoubtedly  was  the  most  retiring  and  the  most 
inoflfensive  of  men ; — but  what  of  that  ? — he  had  been  at  Meaux, 
and  this,  in  those  days,  was  sufficient.  "Pavanne  has 
relnpsed  !"  was  the  cry  :  "the  dog  has  returned  to  his  vomit, 
and  the  swine  that  was  washed  to  his  wallowing  in  the  mire." 
He  was  seized  immediately,  cast  into  prison,  and  after  a  while 
brought  before  the  judges.  This  was  all  that  young  Pavanne 
desired. — He  felt  his  mind  relieved  as  soon  as  thr  fitters  were 
fastened  on  his  limbs,  and  recovered  all  his  energy  in  the  open 
confession  of  Jesus  Christ! J  The  persecutors  smiled  when 
they  saw  that  this  time  nothing  couid  disappoint  them  of 
their  victim, — no  recantation, — no  flight, — no  intervention  of 

*  Gerdesius,  Historia  saeculi  xvi.  renovati  p.  52.  D'Argentre,  Collec- 
tio  Judiciorum  de  no  vis  erroribus  ii.  p.  21. — Gaillard,  Hist,  de  Francois  I. 
torn.  iv.  p.  233. 

t  Animi  factum  suum  detestantis  dolorem,  saepe  declaraverit.  (Acta 
Mart.  p.  203.) 

J  Puram  religionis  Christianae  confessionem  addit.     (Ibid.  p.  203.) 


THE    HERMIT    OF    LIVRY.  483 

a  powerful  protection.  The  meekness  of  the  youth,  his  can- 
dour, his  courage,  were  altogether  unavailing  to  appease  the 
malice  of  his  enemies.  He,  on  the  contrary,  looked  on  them 
with  affection, — for  by  loading  him  with  chains,  they  had 
restored  his  peace  of  mind  and  his  joy, — but  that  benevolent 
look  of  his  only  hardened  their  hearts  the  more.  The  pro- 
ceedings against  him  were  conducted  with  all  despatch,  and  a 
very  short  time  had  elapsed  before  a  pile  was  erected  in  the 
Flace  de  Greve,  on  which  Pavanne  made  a  joyful  end, — 
strengthening  by  his  example  all  who  in  that  great  city  had 
openly  or  secretly  embraced  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

But  this  was  not  enough  for  the  Sorbonne.  If  men  of  mean 
condition  only  are  to  be  sacrificed,  their  number  at  least  must 
make  amends  for  their  want  of  rank.  The  flames  in  the  Place 
de  Greve  have  struck  terror  into  Paris  and  into  the  whole  of 
France ;  but  another  pile,  kindled  on  some  other  spot,  will 
redouble  that  terror.  It  will  be  the  subject  of  conversation  at 
the  court,  in  the  colleges,  in  the  workshop  of  the  artisan;  and 
tokens  like  these,  better  than  all  the  edicts  that  can  be  issued, 
will  prove  that  Louisa  of  Savoy,  the  Sorbonne,  and  the  Par- 
liament, are  determined  to  sacrifice  the  very  last  heretic  to  the 
anathemas  of  Rome. 

la  the  forest  of  Livry,  three  leagues  distant  from  Paris,  and 
not  far  from  the  site  of  an  ancient  abbey  of  the  order  of  St. 
Augustin,  lived  a  hermit,  who,  having  chanced  in  his  wan- 
derings to  fall  in  with  some  of  the  men  of  Meaux,  had  received 
the  truth  of  the  Gospel  into  his  heart.*  The  poor  hermit  had 
felt  himself  rich  indeed  that  day  in  his  solitary  retreat,  when, 
along  wii.h  the  scanty  dole  of  bread  which  public  charity  had 
afforded  him,  he  brought  home  Jesus  Christ  and  his  grace. 
He  understood  from  that  time  how  much  better  it  is  to  give 
than  to  receive.  He  went  from  cottage  to  cottage  in  the 
villages  around,  and  as  soon  as  he  cros.sed  the  threshold, 
began  to  speak  to  the  poor  peasants  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  free 

*  Cette  semence  de  Faber  et  de  ses  disciples,  prise  au  grenier  de  Lu- 
ther, gerraa  Jans  le  sot  esprit  d'un  ermite  qui  se  tenait  prcs  la  ville  de 
Pans,     (Hist,  Catholicjue  de  notre  temps  par  S.  Fontaine,  Paris,  1562.) 


484  SEIZED    AND    CONDEMNED. 

pardon  which  it  offers  to  every  burthened  soul, — a  pardon 
infinitely  more  precious  than  any  priestly  absolution.*  The 
good  hermit  of  Livry  was  soon  widely  known  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Paris;  many  came  to  visit  him  at  his  poor  her- 
mitage, and  he  discharged  the  office  of  a  kind  and  faithful 
missionary  to  the  simple-minded  in  all  the  adjacent  districts. 

It  was  not  long  before  intelligence  of  what  was  doing  by 
the  new  evangelist  reached  the  ears  of  the  Sorbonne,  and  the 
magistrates  of  Paris.  The  hermit  was  seized, — dragged  from 
his  hermitage — from  his  forest — fi'om  the  fields  he  had  daily 
traversed, — thrown  into  a  dungeon  in  that  great  city  which  he 
had  always  shunned, — brought  to  judgment, — convicted, — 
and  sentenced  to  "the  exemplary  punishment  of  being  burnt 
by  a  slow  fire."t 

In  order  to  render  the  example  the  more  striking,  it  was 
determined  that  he  should  be  burnt  in  the  close  of  Notre  Dame; 
before  that  celebrated  cathedral,  which  typifies  the  majesty  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  The  whole  of  the  clergy  were 
convened,  and  a  degree  of  pomp  was  displayed  equal  to  that 
of  the  most  solemn  festivals.^  A  desire  was  shown  to  attract 
all  Paris,  if  possible,  to  the  place  of  execution.  "The  great 
bell  of  the  church  of  Notre  Dame  swinging  heavily,"  says 
an  historian,  "to  rouse  the  people  all  over  Paris."  And  ac- 
cordingly from  every  surrounding  avenue,  the  people  came 
flocking  to  the  spot.  The  deep-toned  reverberations  of  the 
bell  made  the  workmen  quit  his  task,  the  student  cast  aside  his 
books,  the  shopkeeper  forsake  his  traffic,  the  soldier  start  from 
the  guard-room  bench, — and  already  the  close  was  filled  with 
a  dense  crowd,  which  was  continually  increasing.^  The 
hermit,  attired  in  the  robes  appropriated  to  obstinate  heretics, 
bareheaded,  and  with  bare  feet,  was  led  out  before  the  doors 

*  Lequel  par  les  villages  qu'il  frequentait,  sous  couleur  de  faire  ses 
quetes,  tenait  propos  heretiques.  (Hist.  Catholique  de  notre  temps  par 
S.  Fontaine,  Paris,  1562.) 

t  Histoire  catholique  de  notre  temps,  par  Fontaine. 

X  Avec  une  grande  ceremonie.  (Histoire  des  Egl.  Ref.  par.  Theod.  de 
Beze,  i.  p.  4.) 

§  Histoire  des  Egl.  Ref.  par  Theod  de  Beze,  i.  p.  4. 


RESOURCES  OF  PROVIDENCE.  485 

of  the  cathedral.  Tranquil,  firm,  and  collected,  he  replied  to 
the  exhortations  of  the  confessors,  who  presented  hinn  with  the 
crucifix,  only  by  declaring-  that  his  hope  rested  solely  on  the 
mercy  of  God.  The  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  who  stood  in 
the  fr(>nt  rank  of  the  spectators,  observing-  his  constancy,  and  the 
effect  it  pioduced  upon  the  people,  cried  aloud — "  He  is  a  man 
foredoomed  to  the  fires  of  hell."*  The  clang  of  the  great 
bell,  which  all  this  while  was  rung  with  a  rolling  stroke, 
while  it  stunned  the  ears  of  the  multitude,  served  to  heighten 
the  solemnity  of  that  mournful  spectacle.  At  length  the  bell 
was  silent. — and  the  martyr  having  answered  the  last  inter- 
rogatory of  his  adversaries  by  saying  that  he  was  resolved  to 
die  in  the  faith  of  his  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  underwent  his  sentence 
of  being  "burnt  by  a  slow  fire."  And  so,  in  the  cathedral 
close  of  Notre  Dame,  beneath  the  stately  towers  erected  by 
the  piety  of  Louis  the  younger,  amidst  the  cries  and  tumultu- 
ous excitement  of  a  vast  population,  died  peaceably,  a  man 
w^hose  name  history  has  not  deigned  to  transmit  to  us, — "  the 
hermit  of  Livry." 

While  men  were  thus  engaged  in  destroying  the  first  con- 
fessors of  Jesus  Christ  in  France,  God  was  raising  up  others 
gifted  with  ampler  powers  for  his  service.  A  modest  student 
— a  humble  hermit — might  be  dragged  to  the  stake,  and 
Beda  might  almost  persuade  himself  that  the  doctrine  they 
proclaimed  would  perish  with  them.  But  Providence  has  re- 
sources which  the  world  knows  not  of  The  Gospel,  like  the 
fabled  bird  of  antiquity,  contains  within  itself  a  principle  of  life 
which  the  flames  can  never  reach,  and  from  the  ashes  in 
which  it  seemed  to  lie  extinguished,  it  springs  afresh,  pure  and 
vigorous  as  ever.  Often,  when  the  storm  is  at  its  height, 
when  the  fiery  bolt  of  persecution  appears  to  have  laid  the 
truth  prostrate,  and  enduring,  impenetrable  darkness  to  have 
closed  over  it, — even  at  that  moment  there  comes  a  gleam  oT 
light,  and  announces  a  great  deliverance  at  hand.  So,  when 
all  earthly  powers  were  leagued  together  in  France  to  effect 
the  ruin  of  the  Reformation,  God  was  preparing  an  instru- 

*  Histoire  des  Egl.  Ref.  par  Theod.  de  Beze,  i.  p.  4. 
41* 


486  JOHN    CALVIN 

ment,  apparently  feeble,  to  maintain  His  rights  at  a  future  day, 
and  with  more  than  human  intrepidity  to  defend  His  cause. 
Averting  our  eyes  from  the  persecutions  and  cruehies  which 
have  succeeded  each  other  so  rapidly  since  Francis  I.  became 
the  prisoner  of  Charles, — let  us  turn  them  on  a  child  who 
shall  hereafter  be  called  forth  to  take  his  station  as  a  leader  of 
a  mighty  host  in  the  holy  warfare  of  Israel. 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  and  university  of  Paris 
who  listened  to  the  sound  of  the  great  bell,  was  a  young  scholar 
of  sixteen,  a  native  of  Noyon,  in  Picardy,  of  middle  stature,* 
and  pale,  and  somewhat  dark  complexion,  whose  powerful 
and  sagacious  mind  was  indicated  by  the  keenness  and  pecu- 
liar brightness  of  his  eye,  and  the  animated  expression  of  his 
countenance.  His  dress,  which  was  extremely  neat,  but  per- 
fectly unostentatious,  corresponded  to  the  modesty  and  de- 
corum of  his  character.!  This  young  man,  whose  name  was 
John  Cauvin  or  Calvin,  was  a  student  at  the  college  of  La 
Marche,  of  which  Mathurin  Cordier,  a  man  celebrated  for  his 
integrity,  learning,  and  peculiar  skill  in  the  instruction  of 
youth,  was  at  that  time  the  regent.  Educated  in  all  the  super- 
stitions of  Popery,  the  student  of  Noyon  was  blindly  sub- 
missive to  the  Church,  dutifully  observant  of  all  the  practices 
she  enjoined,:}:  and  fully  persuaded  that  heretics  well  deserved 
the  flames  to  which  they  were  delivered.  The  blood  which 
was  then  flowing  in  Paris  was,  in  his  eyes,  an  additional  ag- 
gravation of  the  crime  of  heresy.  But,  although  by  natural 
disposition  timid,  and,  to  use  his  own  words,  soft  and  pusil- 
lanimous ^  he  was  endowed  with  that  uprightness  of  mind,  and 
that  generosity  of  heart  which  induce  men  to  sacrifice  every- 
thing to  the  convictions  of  their  conscience.    Vainly,  there 

*  Statura  fuit  mediocri,  colore  sub  pallido  et  nigricante,  oculis  ad  mor- 
tem usque  limpidis,  quique  ingenii  sagacitatem  testarentur.  (Bezoe  Vita 
Calvini.) 

t  Cultu  corporis  neque  culto  neque  sordido  sed  qui  singularem  rao- 
destiam  deceret.     (Ibid.) 

1  Primo  quidem  quum  superstitionibus  Papatus  magis  pertinaciter 
addictus  essem.     (Calv.  Praef.  ad  Psalm.) 

S  Ego  qui  natura  timido,  molli  et  pusillo  animo  me  esse  fateor.     (Ibid.) 


AT    THE    UNIVERSITY.  487 

fore,  were  those  appalling  spectacles  presented  to  hini  in  his 
youth;  vain  was  the  example  of  the  miirderons  flames  kindled 
in  the  Place  de  Greve  and  in  the  close  of  Notre  Dame,  for 
the  destruction  of  the  faithful  followers  of  the  Gospel.  The 
remembrance  of  such  horrors  could  not,  afterwards,  deter  him 
from  entering  on  thai  "  new  way"  which  seemed  to  lead  only  to 
the  dungeon  and  the  scaffold.  In  other  respects  the  character 
of  the  youthful  Calvin  afforded  indications  of  what  he  was 
hereafter  to  become.  The  austerity  of  his  morals  was  the 
precursor  of  equal  austerity  in  his  doctrine,  and  the  scholar 
of  sixteen  already  gave  promise  of  a  man  who  would  take  up 
in  earnest  all  that  should  be  imparted  to  him,  and  would 
rigidly  exact  from  others  what,  in  his  own  case,  he  feh  it  so 
much  a  matter  of  course  to  perform.  Silent  and  grave  while 
attending  on  the  college  lectures,  taking  no  pleasure  in  the 
sports  and  idle  frolics  which  others  pursued  during  the  hours 
of  recreation; — shrinking  in  disgust  from  all  participation  in 
vice,*  he  sometiai'-vs  censured  the  disorders  of  his  fellow-pupils 
with  severity — with  a  measure,  even,  of  acrimony.f  Accord- 
ingly, a  canon  of  Noyon  assures  us  that  his  companions  had 
surnamed  him  the  "  accusativePX  He  stood  among  them  as 
the  representative  of  conscience  and  duty, — so  far  was  he  from 
being  in  reality  what  some  calumniators  endeavoured  to  make 
him.  The  pale  aspect,  the  piercing  eye  of  a  student  of  sixteen 
already  inspired  his  associates  with  more  respect  than  the 
black  gowns  of  their  masters  ;  and  this  boy  from  Picardy, 
low  in  stature,  and  timid  in  demeanour,  who  came  day  by  day 
to  take  his  seat  on  the  benches  of  the  college  of  La  Marche, 
was,  even  then,  by  the  seriousness  of  his  conversation  and 
sobriety  of  his  life  unconsciously  discharging  the  office  of  a 
minister  and  a  Reformer. 

Nor  was  it  in  these  particulars  alone  that  the  stripling  of 
Noyon  evinced  his  superiority  to  his  compeers.     His  extreme 

*  Summam  in  inoribus  affectabat  gravitatem   et  paucorum  hominum 
consuetudine  utebatur.     (Roemundi  Hist.  Hseres.  vii.  10.) 

t  Severus  omnimn  insuis  sodalibus  censor.     (Bezse  Vita.  Calv.) 
X  Annates  de  I'Eglise  de  Noyon  par  Levasseur,  Chanoine,  p.  1158, 


488  THE    FAMILY    OF    MOMMOR. 

timidity  sometimes  restrained  him  from  manifesting  the  antf* 
pathy  he  felt  to  vanity  and  to  vice;  but  in  his  studies  he  was 
already  exerting  all  the  force  of  his  grnius,  and  all  the  inten- 
sity of  his  will, — and  any  one  who  observed  him,  might  have 
predicted  that  his  life  would  be  consumed  in  labour.  The  fa- 
cility of  his  comprehension  was  wonderful, — while  his  class- 
fellows  were  advancing  by  painful  steps,  he  was  bounding 
lightly  over  the  course, — and  the  knowledge  which  others 
were  long  in  acquiring  superficiallj'-,  was  instantaneously  seiz- 
ed by  his  youthful  genius,  and  permanently  impressed  on  his 
memory.  His  masters,  therefore,  were  obliged  to  withdraw 
him  from  the  ranks,  and  introduce  him  singly  to  the  higher 
branches  of  learning.* 

Among  his  fellow-students  were  the  young  men  of  the  fa- 
mily of  Mommor,  a  house  reckoned  among  the  first  nobility 
of  Picardy.  John  Calvin  was  intimately  connected  with  these 
young  noblemen,  especially  with  Claude,  who  at  a  later  period 
was  abbot  of  St.  Eloi,  and  to  whom  he  dedicated  his  Com- 
mentary on  Seneca.  It  was  in  their  company  that  he  had 
come  to  Paris.  His  father,  Gerard  Calvin,  notary  apostolic, 
and  procurator-fiscal  of  the  county  of  Noyon,  secretary  of  the 
diocese,  and  proctor  of  the  chapter. f  was  a  man  of  judgment 
and  ability,  whose  talents  had  raised  him  to  offices  which 
were  sought  after  by  the  best  families  ;  and  all  the  noblesse  of 
the  province,  but  particularly  the  illustrious  family  of  Mom- 
mor, entertained  the  highest  esteem  for  him.|  Gerard,  w^ho 
resided  at  Noyon, §  had  married  a  young  woman  from  Cam- 
bray,  named  Jane   Lefranq,  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  and 

*  Exculto  ipsius  ingenio  quod  ei  jam  turn  erat  acerrimum,  ita  profecit 
ut  caeteris  sodalibus  in  grammatices  curriculo  relictis  ad  dialecticos  et  alia- 
rum  quasvocant  artium  studium  promoveretur,     (Beza) 

t  Levasseur,  docteur  de  la  Sorbonne,  annales  de  I'Eglise  Cathedrale 
de  Noyon,  p.  1151.     Drelincourt,  Defense  de  Calvin,  p.  193. 

J  Erat  is  Gerardus  non  parvi  judicii  et  consilii  homo,  ideoque  nobilibus 
ejus  regionis  plerisque  carus.     (Beza.) 

§  "  On  the  spot  where  now  stands  a  house,  distinguished  by  the  sign, 
of  the  Slag."  (Desmay,  Doct.  de  la  Sorbonne.  Vit.  de  Jean  Calvin, 
heresiarque,  p.  30.     Levasseur,  Ann.  de  Noyon,  p.  1157.) 


-Calvin's  childhood.      489 

worthy  of  esteem  for  her  humble  piety,  by  whom  he  had  al- 
ready had  a  son  called  Charles,  when  on  the  10th  of  July, 
1509,  she  gave  birth  to  a  second  son,  who  received  the  name 
of  John,  and  was  baptized  in  the  church  of  St.  Godebert  *  A 
third  son,  named  Anthony,  who  died  young,  and  two  daugh- 
ters, made  up  the  entire  family  ofthe  procurator-fiscal  of  Noyon. 
Gerard  Calvin,  living  in  habits  of  familiar  intercourse  with 
the  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  and  chief  men  of  the  province, 
was  desirous  that  his  children  should  receive  the  same  educa- 
tion as  those  of  the  highest  rank.  John,  in  whom  he  had 
perceived  an  early  development  of  talent,  was  brought  up  with 
the  children  ofthe  flimily  of  Mommor:  he  lived  in  the  house 
ns  one  of  themselves,  and  shared  in  the  lessons  of  the  young 
Claude.  The  effect  of  early  discipline  and  culture  in  such  a 
family  was  lo  impart  to  his  intellectual  character  a  degree  of 
refinement  which  otherwise  it  could  scarcely  have  acquired.! 
He  was  afterwards  sent  to  the  college  of  Capettes,  an  es- 
tablishment within  the  city  of  Noyon.:}:  The  child  had  but 
few  recreations.  That  severity,  which  was  one  feature  in  the 
character  of  the  son,  found  a  place  likewise  in  the  tempera- 
ment of  the  father.  Gerard  brought  him  up  rigidly, — from 
his  earliest  years  he  was  obliged  to  bend  to  the  inflexible 
rule  of  duty, — which  after  a  little  while  became  habitual  to 

*  The  calumnious  and  extravagant  tales  which  have  been  circulated 
in  regard  to  the  person  of  Calvin,  may  be  traced  to  a  very  early  origin. 
J.  Levasseur,  who  was  afterwards  dean  of  the  chapter  of  Noyon,  relates 
that  when  his  mother  brought  him  into  the  world,  the  birth  of  the  child 
was  preceded  by  the  preternatural  appearance  of  a  swarm  of  large  flies, 
— "  a  sure  presage  that  he  would  be  an  evil  speaker  and  slanderer." 
(Annales  de  la  CatheJrale  de  Noyon,  p.  115.)  These  absurdities  and 
others  of  the  same  stamp,  which  have  been  invented  to  the  prejudice  of 
the  Reformer  may  be  safely  left  to  refute  themselves  without  any  effort 
on  our  part.  In  our  own  day,  those  among  the  Romish  doctors  who  are 
not  ashamed  to  employ  the  weapons  of  calumny,  make  a  selection  of 
these  coarse  and  ridiculous  stories,  not  daring  to  repeat  them  all;  yet 
they  are  all  of  equal  value. 

t  Domi  vestrse  puer  educatus,  iisdem  tecum  studiis  initiatus  primam 
vitse  et  lit^rafum  discijjlinam  familiae  vestrse  nobilissimae  acceptam  refero. 
(Calv.  Praef.  in  Senecam  ad  Claudium.) 

J  Desmay,  Remarquesj  p.  3i,     (Drelincourt,  Defense,  p.  158.) 


490  HIS    DEVOTION    TO    STUDY. 

him, — and  thus  the  influence  of  the  father  counteracted  that 
of  the  family  of  Mommor.  Timid  by  nature, — with  some- 
thing, as  he  tells  us  himself,  of  rustic  bashfulness  in  his  dispo- 
sition,*— and  rendered  still  more  diffident  by  his  father's  se- 
verity, John  would  often  escape  from  the  splendid  mansion  of 
his  protectors,  to  bury  himself  in  solitude  and  obscurity.f  In 
hours  of  seclusion  like  this,  his  youthful  spirit  grew  familiar 
with  lofty  conceptions.  It  appears  that  he  sometimes  went  to 
the  neighbouring  village  of  Pont  I'Eveque,  where  his  grand- 
father inhabited  a  cottage,:^  and  where  other  relatives  also, 
who  at  a  later  period  changed  ihf' .  i^ame  through  hatred  of 
the  heresiarch,  then  ofl^ered  a  kindly  welcome  to  the  son  of  the 
procurator-fiscal.  But  it  was  to  study,  chiefly,  that  young 
Calvin  devoted  his  days.  While  Luther,  who  was  to  act  upon 
the  mass  of  the  people,  was  brought  up  at  first  as  a  peasant's 
son,  Calvin,  ordained  to  act  chiefly  as  a  theologian  and  a  rea- 
soner,  and  to  become  the  legislator  of  the  renovated  Church, 
received,  even  in  his  childhood,  a  more  liberal  education.^ 

A  spirit  of  piety  evinced  itself  betimes  in  the  child's  heart. 
One  of  his  biographers  tells  us  that  he  was  taught,  whiln  yet 
young,  to  pray  in  the  open  air,  under  the  vault  of  heaven, — a 
practice  which  helped  to  awaken  within  his  soul  the  sentiment 
of  an  omnipresent  Deity.  ||  But  although  Calvin  may,  even 
in  his  earliest  years,  have  heard  the  voice  of  God  addressed  to 
his  heart,  no  one  in  the  city  of  Noyon  was  more  exact  than 
he  in  the  observance  of  every  rule  established  by  the  Church, 
Gerard,  therefore,  remarking  the  bent  of  his  mind,  con- 
ceived the  design  of  devoting  his  son  to  theology.^  The 
knowledge  of  his  destination  contributed  undoubtedly  to  im- 
*  Ego  qui  natura  subrusticus.  (Praef.  ad  Psalm.) 
t  Umbram  et  otium  semper  amavi  .  .  .  latebras  catare.  (Prsef.  ap 
Psalm.) 

t  "  It  is  reported  that   his  grandfather  was  a  cooper."     (Drelincourt, 
p.  36.     Levasseur  ann.  de  Noyon,  p.  1151.) 
§  Henry,  das  Leben  Calvins,  p.  29. 

II  Calvin's    Leben  von   Fischer,  Leipzig,  1794.     The  author  does  not 
quote  the  authority  on  which  he  relates  this  fact. 

IT  Destinarat  autem  eum  p;  ter  ab  initio  theologise  studiis,  quod  in  ilia 
etiam  tenera  aetata  mirum  in  modum  religiosus  esset.   (Bezae,  Vita  Cdlv.) 


INFANT    ECCLESIASTICS.  491 

press  upon  his  mind  that  serious  and  theological  cast  by  which 
it  was  afterwards  distinguished.  His  intellect  was  formed  by- 
nature  to  take  a  decided  bias  from  the  first,  and  to  nourish  the 
most  elevated  thoughts  at  an  early  age.  The  report  that  he 
was  a  chorister  boy  at  this  time  is  admitted  by  his  adversaries 
themselves  to  be  destitute  of  foundation;  but  they  confidently 
affirm  that  while  yet  a  child,  he  was  seen  in  religious  proces- 
sions carrying,  instead  of  a  cross,  a  sword  with  a  cross-shaped 
hilt.*  "  A  presage,"  they  add,  "  of  what  he  was  one  day  to 
become."  "  The  Lord  has  made  my  mouth  like  a  sharp  sword," 
says  the  servant  of  the  Lord,  in  Isaiah.  The  same  may  be 
said  of  Calvin. 

Gerard  was  poor :  the  education  of  his  son  was  burthen- 
some  to  him,  and  he  wished  to  attach  him  irrevocably  to  the 
church.  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  had  been  appointed  co- 
adjutor to  the  Bishop  of  Metz,  when  only  four  years  old.  It 
was  then  a  common  practice  to  bestow  ecclesiastical  titles  and 
revenues  upon  children.  Alphonso  of  Portugal  was  created 
a  cardinal  by  Leo  the  Tenth,  at  the  age  of  eight:  Odet  de 
Chatillon  received  the  same  dignity  from  Clement  the  Seventh 
at  the  age  of  eleven  ;  and,  at  a  later  period,  the  celebrated 
Mother  Angelica,  of  Port  Royal,  was  made  coadjutrix  of  that 
convent  at  the  age  of  seven.  Gerard,  who  died  a  faithful 
Catholic,  was  regarded  with  favour  by  Charles  de  Hangest, 
bishop  of  Noyon,  and  his  vicars-gtneral.  Accordingly,  the 
chaplaincy  of  La  Gesine  having  become  vacant  by  the  resig- 
nation of  the  incumbent,  the  bishop  on  the  15th  May,  1521, 
bestowed  that  benefice  on  John  Calvin,  whose  age  was  then 
nearly  twelve.  He  was  inducted  by  the  chapter  a  week  after. 
On  the  eve  of  Corpus  Christi.  the  bishop  solemnly  cut  the 
child's  hair;t  and  by  this  ceremony  of  tonsure  John  was  in- 
vested with  the  clerical  character,  and  becMrn^  capable  of  en- 
tering into  sicred  ordeis,  and  holding  a  benefice  without  re- 
sidinfj  on  ihp  spot. 

Thus  was  it  ordered  that  Calvin,  in    his  childhood,  should 

♦  Levasseur,  ann.  de  Noyon,  pp.  11.59,  1173. 

t  Vie  de  Calvin  par  Destnay,  p.  31  ;  Levasseur,  p.  1158. 


492  CALVIN  PROCEEDS  TO  PARIS. 

have  personal  experience  of  the  abuses  of  the  Church  of  Rome. 
There  was  not  a  tonsured  head  in  the  kingdom  more  sin- 
cerely pious  than  the  chaplain  of  La  Gesine,  and  the  thought- 
ful child  was  himself  perhaps  a  little  astonished  at  the  opera- 
tion performed  by  the  bishop  and  his  vicars-general.  But  in 
the  simplicity  of  his  heart,  he  revered  those  exalted  persona- 
ges too  highly  to  harbour  the  least  suspicion  regarding  the 
lawfulness  of  his  tonsure.  He  had  enjoyed  the  distinction 
about  two  years,  when  Noyon  was  visited  with  a  terrible  pes- 
tilence. Several  of  the  canons  petitioned  the  chapter  that  they 
might  be  allowed  to  quit  the  city.  Already  many  of  the  in- 
habitants had  been  struck  by  the  "  great  death  ;"  and  Gerard 
began  to  reflect  with  alarm  that  his  son  John,  the  hope  of  his 
age,  might,  in  a  moment,  be  snatched  from  his  tenderness  by 
this  scourge  of  God.  The' children  of  the  Mommor  family 
were  going-to  Paris  to  continue  their  studies.  This  was  the 
very  opportunity  that  the  procurator-fiscal  had  always  desired 
for  his  son.  Why  should  he  separate  John  from  his  fellow- 
pupils  ?  On  the  5th  August,  1523,  therefore,  he  presented  to 
the  chapter  a  petition  that  the  young  chaplain  might  have 
"  liberty  to  go  whithersoever  he  would,  during  the  continu- 
ance of  the  plague,  without  losing  his  allowances  ;  which  was 
granted  accordingly,  until  the  feast  of  St.  Remigius."*  Thus 
it  was  that  John  Calvin,  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  quitted  his  pa- 
ternal home.  Calumny  must  be  intrepid  indeed,  to  attribute 
his  departure  to  other  causes,  and,  in  sheer  wantonness,  pro- 
voke that  disgrace  which  justly  recoils  on  all  who  give  cur- 
rency to  evil  reports,  after  their  falsehood  has  been  demon- 
strated. It  would  appear,  that  on  his  arrival  in  Paris,  Calvin 
was  received  into  the  house  of  one  of  his  uncles,  Richard 
Cauvin,  who  lived  near  the  church  of  St.  Germain  I'Auxer- 

*  The  particulars  here  given  rest  on  the  testimony  of  the  priest,  and 
vicar-general  Desmay,  (Jean  Calvin,  heresiarque,  p.  32,)  and  the  canon 
Levosseur,  (Ann.  de  Noyon,  p.  1160,)  who  found  them,  as  they  assure  us, 
in  the  registers  of  the  chapter  of  Noyon.  These  Romish  authors,  there- 
fore, refute  the  inventions  or  mistakes  of  Richelieu  and  other  writers. — 
See  the  preface. 


REFORMATION    OF    LANGUAGE.  493 

rois.  "  And  so,  while  flying-  from  the  plague,"  says  the  canon 
of  Noyon,  "he  encountered  a  more  fatal  pestilence." 

A  new  world  opened  itself  to  the  young  man  in  this  me- 
tropolis of  literature.  He  determined  to  profit  by  his  fortune, 
applied  himself  to  study,  and  made  great  progress  in  latinity. 
He  became  intimately  acquainted  with  the  writings  of  Cicero, 
and  learned  from  that  great  master  to  employ  the  language 
of  the  Romans  with  an  ease,  a  purity,  an  idiomatic  grace 
which  excited  the  admiration  of  his  enemies  themselves.  But 
he  also  discovered  in  that  language  a  store  of  wealth  which 
he  was  afterwards  to  transfer  into  his  own. 

Hitherto  the  Latin  had  been  the  sole  language  of  literature. 
It  was,  and  even  to  our  own  days  it  has  continued,  the  Ian- 
gunge  of  the  Romish  Ciiurch.  The  modern  tongues  of 
Europe  were  created. — at  least  they  were  emancipated, — by 
the  Reformation.  The  exclusive  agency  of  the  priests  was 
now  at  an  end;  the  people  were  called  upon  to  learn  and  to 
know  for  themselves.  In  this  single  fact  was  involved  the 
abrogation  of  the  language  of  the  priests, — the  inauguration 
of  the  language  of  the  people.  It  is  not  to  the  Sorbonne  alone, 
— it  is  not  to  a  few  monks,  a  few  divines,  a  few  men  of  letters, 
that  the  new  doctrine  is  to  be  addressed;  it  is  to  the  noble,  to 
the  burgher,  to  the  artisan, — all  men  now  are  to  be  preached 
to:  nay,  more. — all  men  now  are  to  become  preachers;  wool- 
combers  and  knights  no  less  than  curates  and  doctors.  A  new- 
language,  therefore,  is  wanted,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  ordinary 
language  of  the  people  must  undergo  a  mighty  tiansforma- 
tion, — must  experience  a  happy  df-liverance  from  its  shackles : 
drawn  from  the  common  uses  of  life,  it  must  be  indebted  to  a 
renovated  Christianity  for  its  patent  of  nobility^  The  Gospel, 
so  long  laid  to  sleep,  is  now  awake  again :  it  appeals  to  the 
nation  at  large;  it  kindles  the  most  generous  affections  of  the 
soul;  it  opens  the  treasures  of  heaven  to  a  generation  whose 
thoughts  were  all  confined  within  the  petty  circle  of  the  world 
below;  it  agitates  the  masses  ;  it  speaks  to  them  of  God,  of 
man,  of  good  and  evil,  of  the  Pope,  of  the  Bible,  of  a  crown 
VOL.  III.  42 


494  PROTESTANT   FRANCE. 

in  heaven, — it  may  be,  also,  of  a  scaffold  upon  earth.  The 
popular  idiom,  which  hitherto  had  oeen  employed  only  by  the 
chronicler  and  the  minstrel,  was  summoned,  by  the  Reforma- 
tion, to  act  a  new  part,  and  consequently  to  receive  a  new  de- 
velopment. Society  finds  a  new  world  rising  up  around  it ; 
and  for  this  new  world  there  must  needs  be  new  b.nguages. 
The  Reformation  freed  the  French  language  from  the  swad- 
dling bands  in  which  it  had  hitherto  been  confined,  and  reared 
it  to  a  speedy  and  vigorous  maturity.  Since  then,  that  lan- 
guage has  had  full  possession  of  all  the  exalted  privileges  that 
belong  to  a  dialect  conversant  with  the  operations  of  mind  and 
the  great  concerns  of  heaven, — privileges  which,  under  the 
tutelage  of  Rome,  it  had  never  enjoyed.  True  it  is  that  the 
people  form  their  own  language  ;  they,  and  they  alone,  invent 
those  happy  words, — those  figurative  and  energetic  phrases, 
which  give  colouring  and  animation  to  human  speech.  But 
there  are  latent  powers  in  language  which  they  know  not 
how  to  elicit,  and  which  men  of  cultivated  intellect  can  alone 
call  into  action.  When  the  time  arrived  for  Calvin  to  en- 
gage in  discussion  and  controversy,  he  was  forced,  by  the  ex- 
igency of  the  case  to  enrich  his  native  tongue  with  modes  of 
expression  hitherto  unknown  to  it, — indicating  the  dependence, 
the  connection,  the  minute  diversity  of  ideas,  the  transition 
from  one  to  another,  and  the  various  steps  in  the  process  of 
logical  deductions. 

The  elements  of  all  this  were  already  working  in  the  brain 
of  the  young  student  of  the  coihge  of  La  Marche.  This 
child,  who  was  to  exert  so  powerful  a  mastery  over  the  human 
heart,  was  destined  to  exhibit  equal  power  in  bending  and 
moulding  to  his  will  the  idiom  which  was  to  serve  as  his  in- 
strument. The  French  of  Calvin  eventually  became  the  lan- 
gUHoe  of  Protestant  France,  and  when  we  speak  of  Protestant 
Frunce,  we  speak  of  the  most  cultivated  portion  of  the  French 
nation  ;  since  out  of  that  portion  arose  those  families  of  scholars 
and  diii-nified  magistrates,  who  contributed  so  much  to  the  re- 
finement of  the  national  character  — out  of  that  portion  arose 


SYSTEM    OF    TERROR.  495 

also  the  society  of  Port  Royal,*  one  of  the  great  agents  by 
whicli  the  prose  and  even  the  poetry  of  France  have  been 
modelled, — a  societj^  which  aimed  at  introducing  into  the 
Catholicism  of  the  Galilean  Church  both  the  doctrine  and  the 
language  of  the  i?eformation,  and  failing  in  one  of  these  ob- 
jects, succeeded  in  the  other ;  for  who  can  deny  that  Roman 
Catholic  France  had  to  learn  from  her  antagonists  among  the 
Jansenists  and  Reformers  how  to  handle  those  v.eapons  of 
style,  without  which  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  her  to 
maintain  her  ground  against  them  ?t 

In  the  mean  time,  while  the  future  Reformer  of  religion 
and  of  language,  was  ripening  in  the  college  of  Iia  Marche,  all 
was  in  commotion  around  that  young  and  thoughtful  scholar, 
without  his  being  at  all  affected  by  the  mighty  movement 
which  agitated  society.  The  flames  that  consumed  the  hermit 
and  Pavanne,  shed  dismay  over  Paris.  But  the  persecutors 
were  not  satisfied  ;  a  system  of  terror  was  set  on  foot  through- 
out the  whole  of  France.  The  friends  of  the  Reformation  no 
longer  dared  to  correspond  with  each  other,  lest  their  letters 
should  be  intercepted,  and  so  betray  to  the  vengeance  of  the 
tribunals,  not  only  those  who  had  written  them,  but  those  also 
to  whom  they  were  addressed. ;{:  One  man,  however,  was 
bold  enough  to  undertake  the  office  of  conveying  intelligence 
of  what  was  passing  in  Paris  and  in  France,  to  the  refugees 
at  Basle, — by  means  of  an  unsigned  letter  sewed  up  in  his 
doublet.  He  escaped  the  scattered  parties  o^  arquebusiers, — 
the  marechaussee  of  the  different  districts, — the  strict  exami- 
nations of  the  provosts  and  their  lieutenants, — and  arrived  at 
Basle  with  the  doublet  on  his  back  and  its  hidden  deposit  un- 
touched     The  tidings  of  which  he  was  the  bearer,  struck 

*  M.  A.  ArnanlJ,  the  grandfather  of  Mother  Angelica  and  of  all  the 
Arnaulds  o^  Port  Royal,  was  a  Protestant, — see  "Port  Royal,  par  M. 
Sainte-Beuve." 

t  Etudes  Liter,  sur  Calvin,  par  M.  A.  Sayers,  Geneve,  1839,  art.  iv. 
This  v/ork  has  been  followed  by  similar  enquiries  regarding  Farel,  Viret, 
and  Beza. 

X  "  Not  a  person  dares  to  write  to  me." — (Toussaint  to  Farel,  4th 
Sept.  1525.     MS.  of  Neufchatel.^ 


496  THE 

terror  into  the  hearts  of  Toussaint  and  his  friends. — "  It  is 
piteous  to  hear  of  the  cruelties  they  are  committing  yonder!"* 
— exclaims  Toussaint.  A  little  before  this,  two  Franciscan 
friars  had  arrived  at  Basle  closely  pursued  by  the  officers  of 
justice.  One  of  these  fi  iars.  named  John  Prevost,  had  preached 
at  Meaux,  and  had  afterwards  been  thrown  into  prison  in 
Paris.t — The  accounts  they  brought  from  the  capital,  as  well 
as  from  Lyons,  through  which  city  they  had  passed  on  their 
way,  excited  the  deepest  compassion  m  the  minds  of  the  refu- 
gees: "May  our  Lord  visit  them  with  his  grace!"  said  Tous- 
saint, writing  to  Farel ; — •'  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  at 
times  I  am  in  great  anxiety  and  tribulation." 

These  excellent  men  did  not  lose  heart,  however.  In  vain 
were  all  the  Parliaments  on  the  watch  ;  in  vain  did  the  spies 
of  the  Sorbonne  and  the  monks  creep  into  churches  and  col- 
leges, and  even  into  private  families,  to  catch  up  any  word  of 
Evangelic  doctrine  that  might  be  dropped  there:  in  vain  did 
the  king's  gens  dJarmes  patrol  the  highvvays  to  intercept  every- 
thing that  seemed  to  bear  the  impress  of  the  Reformation  ; — 
these  Frenchmen,  thus  hunted  and  trodden  on  by  Rome  and 
her  myrmidons,  had  faith  in  better  days  to  come ;  and  even 
now,  the  termination  of  what  they  called  the  Babylonish  cap- 
tivity was  greeted  by  them  afar.  "  At  length,"  said  they, 
"  the  seventieth  year  will  arrive — the  year  of  deliverance,  and 
liberty  of  spirit  and  conscience  will  be  ours.":f  But  the  seventy 
years  were  to  be  extended  to  nearly  three  centuries,  and  un- 
heard-of calamities  were  to  be  endured  before  these  hopes 
should  be  realized.  It  was  not  in  man,  however,  that  the 
refugees  put  their  trust.  "  They  who  have  begun  the  dance," 
said  Toussaint,  "  will  not  stop  short  in  the  middle  of  it."  But 
they  believed  that  the  Lord  "  knew  those  whom  he  had  chosen, 
and  would  accomplish  the  deliverance  of  His  people  by  the 
hand  of  His  power."^ 

♦  Toussaint  to  Farel,  4th  Sept.  1525. 
t  Ibid,  2 1  St  July,  1525. 

X  Sane  venit  anuus  soptuagesimus,  et  terapus  appetit  ut  tandem  vin- 
diceiijur  in  lihertatem  spiritus  et  ronscientijB.     (Ibid.) 

§  SednovitDoroinusquoselegerit.  (Toussaint  to  Farel,  21  July,  1525.) 


TOIISSAINT    GOES    TO    PARIS.  497 

The  Chevalier  d'Esch  had  actually  tasted  the  mercy  of 
deliverance.  Being-  dismissed  from  the  piison  of  Pont-a-Mous- 
son,  he  had  hastened  to  Stiasbuig-;  but  his  stay  there  was 
short.  For  "  the  honour  of  God,"  wro'e  Tonssaint  to  Farel, 
"immediately  prevail  on  our  worthy  master,*  the  Chevaii^r, 
to  return  as  quickly  as  possible,  for  our  other  brethren  have 
need  of  such  a  leader."  In  fact,  the  French  refug-ees  had  now 
fresh  cause  of  alarm.  They  were  apprehensive  that  the  dis- 
pute respecting-  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  had  afflicted  them 
so  grievously  in  Germany,  would  find  its  way  across  the 
Rhine,  and  prove  the  source  of  new  troubles  in  France. 
Francis  Lambert,  the  monk  of  Avignon,  after  visiting  Zurich 
and  Wittemberg,  had  arrived  at  Metz,  where  he  was  regarded 
with  a  measure  of  distrust,  for  it  was  feared  that  he  might  in- 
troduce the  sentiments  of  Luther,  and  by  fruitless,  and,  as 
Toussaint  calls  them,  "  monstrous"  controversies,  impede  the 
progress  of  the  Reformation.!  Esch,  therefore,  returned  to 
Lorraine,  to  be  again  exposed  to  great  dangers,  ''in  commoa 
with  all  in  that  region  who  were  seeking  the  glory  of  Christ."f 

But  Toussaint  was  not  the  man  who  would  invite  others  to 
join  the  battle,  while  he  himself  kept  aloof  from  it.  Deprived 
of  the  comfort  of  daily  intercourse  with  CEcolampadius, 
reduced  to  the  society  of  an  ill-nurtured  priest,  he  had  sought 
more  communion  with  Christ,  and  had  gained  an  accession 
of  courage.  If  he  could  not  return  to  Metz,  might  he  not  at 
least  go  to  Paris?  True, — the  smoke  that  ascended  from  the 
piles  on  which  Pavanne  and  the  hermit  of  Livry  had  been 
sacrificed  was  scarcely  yet  cleared  away,  and  its  dark  shadow 
might  seem  to  repel  from  the  capital  all  whose  faith  bore  any 
resemblance  to  their's.  But  if,  as  he  had  heard,  the  terror 
that  prevailed  in  the  colleges  of  Paris  and  amidst  her  streets 
was  such,  that  none  dared  even  to  name  the  Gospel  or  the 

*  Si  nos  magistrum  in  terris  habere  deceat,"   he  adds.     (Tossanus 

Farello,  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

t  Vereor  ne  aliquid  monstri  alat.     (Ibi  1  27  Sept.  1525.) 

t  Audio  etiam  equitem  periclitari,  simul  et  omnes  qui  illic  Christi  glona 

favent.     (Ibid.  27  Dec.  1525.) 

42* 


498  TOUSSAINT    IN    PRISON. 

Reformation, — was  not  this  a  reason  why  he  should  repair 
thither  ?  Toussaint  quitted  Basle,  and  took  up  his  abode  with- 
in those  perilous  walls,  heretofore  the  seat  of  revelry  and 
licentious  pleasure,  now  the  stronghold  of  fanaticism.  His 
desire  was  to  pur-^ue  his  studies  in  Christian  literature,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  form  a  connection  with  the  brethren  who 
were  in  the  colh^ges,  particularly  with  those  who  were  in  the 
college  of  Cardinal  Lemoine,  where  Lefevre  and  Farel  had 
taught.*  But  he  was  not  long  left  at  liberty  to  prosecute  his 
design.  The  tyranny  of  the  parliamentary  commissaries  and 
the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  now  reigned  supreme  over  th€ 
capital,  and  whosoever  was  obnoxious  to  these  was  sure  to  be 
accused  of  heresy.f  A  duke  and  an  abbot,  whose  names  are 
not  upon  record,  denounced  Toussaint  as  a  heretic ;  and,  one 
day,  the  king's  sergeants  arrested  the  young  Lorrainer,  and 
threw  him  into  prison.  Separated  from  all  his  friends,  and 
treated  as  a  criminal,  Toussaint  felt  his  helplessness  more  as 
a  sinner  than  a  captive.  "O  Lord!"  cried  he,  "withdraw 
not  thy  Spirit  from  me,  for  without  that  Holy  Spirit  I  am 
altogether  carnal,  and  a  sink  of  iniquity."  While  his  body 
was  held  in  chains,  his  heart  turned  for  solace  to  the  remem- 
brance of  those  who  were  still  at  large  to  struggle  for  the 
Gospel.  There  was  OEcolampadius,  his  father,  "  whose  work," 
says  he,  "  we  are  in  the  Lord."|  There  was  Lefevre,  whom 
(obviously  on  account  of  his  age.)  he  deemed  "  unmeet  to  bear 
the  burthen  of  the  Gospel;"^  there  was  Roussel,  "by  whom 
he  trusted  that  the  Lord  would  do  great  things ;"||  and  Vau« 
gris,  who  had  manifested  all  the  zeal  •'  of  the  most  affectionate 
brother,"  in  his  efforts  to  rescue  him  from  the  power  of  his 

♦  Fratres  qui  in  collegio  Cardinalis  Monachi  sunt  te  salutant.  (Tos- 
sanus  Farello,  MS.  of  Neufchatel.) 

t  Regnante  hie  tyrannide  commissariorumettheologorum.    (Ilnd.) 

I  Patrem  nostrum  cujus  nos  opus  sumus  in  Domino.  (Ibid.)  This 
letter  is  without  a  date,  but  it  appears  to  have  been  written  shortly  after 
the  liberatior-  of  Toussaint,  and  it  shows  the  thoughts  which  occupied 
him  at  that  period. 

§  Faber  est  impar  oneri  evangelico  ferendo.     (Ibid.) 

t  Per  Rufum  magna  operabitur  Dominus.     (Ibid.) 


"  NOT    ACCEPTING    DELIVERANCE."  499 

enemies.*  There  Avas  Farel  also,  to  whom  he  wrote — "I 
entreat  your  prayers  on  my  bt^halfj  that  I  may  not  faint  in  this 
conflict."!  How  efft'Ctual  must  he  have  found  the  repetition 
of  those  beloved  names  in  awakening  thoughts  which  mitigated 
the  bitterness  of  his  captivity — for  he  showed  no  signs  of 
fainting.  Death,  it  is  true,  seemed  to  be  impending  over  his 
head,  in  a  city  where  the  blood  of  muhitudes  of  his  brethren 
was  afterwards  to  be  poured  out  like  water  ;|  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  offers  of  the  most  lavish  kind  were  made  by  the 
friends  of  his  mother,  and  of  his  uncle  the  dean  of  Metz,  as 
well  as  by  the  Cardinal  of  Lorraine,  to  induce  him  to  recant.^ 
But  his  reply  to  such  oflTers  was — '•  I  despise  them  all.  I 
know  that  God  is  now  putting  me  to  the  trial.  I  would 
rather  endure  hunger — I  would  rather  be  a  very  abject  in  the 
house  of  the  Lord,  than  dwell  with  great  riches  in  the  palaces 
of  the  ungodly."  II  At  the  same  time  he  made  a  clear  and 
open  confession  of  his  faith :  "  I  glory,"  he  said,  ''in  being  called 
a  heretic  by  those  whose  livesand  doctrine  I  see  to  be  directly  op- 
posite to  those  of  Christ."  H  And  the  young  man  subscribed  him- 
self, "Peter  Toussaint,  unworthy  of  his  name  of  Christian'^ 

Thus,  in  the  absence  of  the  monarch,  new  attacks  were 
levelled  against  the  Reformation.  Berquin,  Toussaint,  and 
many  others  were  in  bonds;  Schuch,  Pavanne,  and  the  hermit 
of  Livry  had  been  put  to  death  ;  Farel,  Lefevre,  Roussel,  and 
many  other  defenders  of  sound  doctrine  were  in  exile;  and  the 
tongues  of  the  most  eloquent  were  chained.  The  light  of  the 
Gospel  waxed  dim ;  the  storm  roared  around,  bending,  and 
shaking  as  if  it  would  uproot  that  tree  which  the  hand  of  God 
had  so  recently  planted  on  the  French  soil. 

To  those  humbler  victims  who  had  already  fallen,  others 

*  Fidelissimi   fratris  officio  functum.      (Tossanus  Farello,    MS.  of 

Neufchitel.) 

t  Commendo  me  vestris  precibus,  ne  succumbam  in  hac  militia.  (Ibid.) 

i  Me  periclitari  de  vita.     (Ibid.) 

§  Offerebantur  hie  mihi  conditiones  amplissimae.     (Ibid.) 

II  Malo  esurire  et  abjectus  esse  in  domo  Domini.     (Ibid.) 

IT  Flaec,  haec  gloria  mea  quod  habeor  hsereticus  ab  his  Quorum  vitam  et 

doctrinam  video  pugnare  cum  Christo.     (Ibid.) 


500  SPREAD    OF    PERSECUTION. 

of  more  note  were  now  to  succeed.  The  enemy,  falling  in 
their  efforts  when  directed  against  persons  of  di'^tinction,  had 
submitted  to  work  fioin  beneath  upwards;  ho|»ing  gradually 
to  bring  to  bear  on  the  more  eminent  in  station  the  sentence 
of  condemnation  and  death.  It  was  a  sort  of  countermarch 
which  answered  the  purpose  they  had  in  view.  Scarcely  had 
the  wind  scattered  the  ashes  with  which  persecution  strewed 
the  Place  de  Greve  and  the  close  of  Notre  Dame,  when 
fuither  blows  were  struck.  The  excellent  Messire  Anthony 
Du  Blet,  the  "  negociateur"  of  Lyons,  sunk  under  the  perse- 
cutions of  the  enemies  of  the  truth  ;  as  did  also  another  disciple, 
Francis  Moulin.  No  detailed  account  of  their  deaths  has 
come  down  to  us.*  Not  stopping  there,  the  persecutors  pro- 
ceeded to  take  a  higher  aim.  One  there  was  whose  eminent 
rank  placed  her  beyond  their  reach — but  who  might  yet  be 
stricken  in  the  persons  of  those  dear  to  her. — This  was  the 
Duchess  of  Aleni^on.  Michel  d'Arande,  her  chaplain, — for 
the  sake  of  whom  Margaret  had  dismissed  her  other  preach- 
ers, and  who  was  accustomed  in  her  presence  to  publish  a 
pure  Gospel, — was  singled  out  for  attack,  and  threatened  with 
imprisonment  and  death. f  About  the  same  time  Anthony 
Papillon,  for  whom  the  princess  had  obtained  the  office  of 
Chief  Master  of  Reqtiests  to  the  Dauphin,  died  suddenly,  and 
a  report,  generally  prevalent  even  among  the  enemies,  as- 
cribed his  death  to  poison  ij: 

The  persecution  was  spreading  through  the  kingdom,  and 
drawing  nearer  to  the  person  of  Margaret.  I'he  isolated 
champions  of  truth  were,  one  after  another,  stretched  upon  the 
field.  A  few  more  such  victories,  and  the  soil  of  France  would 
be  purged  from  heresy.  Underhand  contrivances  and  secret 
practices  took  the  place  of  clamour  and  the  stake.     The  war 

*  Periit  Franciscus  Molinus  ac  Dubletus.  (Erasm.  Epp.  p.  1109.) 
Erasmus,  in  his  letter  addressed  to  Francis  I.,  in  July,  1526,  names  all 
those  who,  during  the  captivity  of  that  prince,  fell  victims  to  the  Romish 
fanatics. 

t  Periclitatus  est  Michael  Arantius.     (Ibid.) 

J  "  Periit  Papilio  non  sine  gravi  suspicione  veneni,"  says  Erasmus. 
(Ibid.) 


PROJECT    OF    MARGARET  501 

was  conducted  in  open  day ;  but  it  was  decided  that  it  should 
also  be  carried  on  darkly  and  in  secrecy.  If,  in  dealing  with 
the  common  people,  fanaticism  employs  the  tribunal  and  the 
scaffold,  it  has  in  reserve  poison  and  the  dagger  for  those  of 
more  note.  The  doctors  of  a  celebrated  school  are  but  too 
well  known  for  having  patronized  the  use  of  such  means;  and 
kings  themselves  have  fallen  victims  to  the  steel  of  the  assassins. 
But  if  France  has  had  in  every  age  its  Seides,  it  has  also  had 
its  Vincents  de  Paul  and  its  Fenelons.  Strokes  falling  in 
darkness  and  silence  were  well  fitted  to  spread  terror  on  all 
sides  ;  and  to  this  perfidious  policy  and  these  fanatical  perse- 
cutions, in  the  interior  of  the  kingdom,  were  now  added  the 
fatal  reverses  experienced  beyond  the  frontier.  A  dark  cloud 
was  spread  over  the  whole  nation.  Not  a  family,  especially 
among  the  higher  classes,  but  was  either  mourning  for  a  father, 
a  husband,  or  a  son,  who  had  fallen  on  the  plains  of  Italy,* 
or  trembling  for  the  liberty  or  life  of  one  of  its  members.  The 
signal  misfortunes  which  had  burst  upon  the  nation  diffused 
everywhere  a  leaven  of  hatred  against  the  heretics.  The 
people,  the  parliament,  the  Church,  and  even  the  throne,  were 
joined  hand  in  hand. 

Was  there  not  enough  to  bow  the  heart  of  Margaret  in  the 
defeat  at  Pavia,  the  death  of  her  husband,  and  the  captivity  of 
her  brother  ?  Was  she  doomed  to  witness  the  final  extinction 
of  that  soft  light  of  the  Gospel  in  which  her  heart  had  found 
such  joy  ?  News  arrived  from  Spain  which  added  to  the 
general  distress.  Mortification  and  sickness  had  reduced  the 
haughty  Francis  to  the  brink  of  the  grave.  If  the  king  should 
continue  a  captive,  or  die,  and  the  regency  of  his  mother  be 
protracted  for  some  years,  there  was  apparently  an  end  of  all 
prospect  of  a  Reformation.  "  But  when  all  seems  lost,"  ob- 
served, at  a  later  period,  the  young  scholar  of  Noyon,  "  God 
interposes  to  deliver  and  guard  His^church  in  His  own  won- 
drous way."t     The  Church  of  France,  which  was  as  if  tra- 

♦  Gaillard  Histoire  de  Francois  ler  torn.  2,  p.  255. 
t  Nam  hahet  Deus  raodum   quo  electos  suos  mirabiliter  custodiat,  ubi 
omnia  perdita  videntur.     (Calvinus  in  Ep.  ad  Rom.  xi.  2.) 


502  FOR    THE    DELIVERANCE    OF    FRANCIS. 

vailing  in  birth,  was  to  have  a  brief  interval  of  ease  before  its 
pains  returned  upon  it ;  and  God  made  use  of  a  weak  woman, 
— one  who  never  openly  declared  for  the  Gospel, — in  order  to 
give  to  the  Church  this  season  of  rest.  Margaret  herself,  at 
this  time,  thought  more  of  saving  the  king  and  the  kingdom, 
than  of  delivering  the  comparatively  unknown  Christians,  who 
were  yet  resting  many  hopes  upon  her  interference.*  But 
under  the  dazzling  surface  of  human  affiiirs,  God  often  hides 
the  mysterious  ways  in  which  He  rules  His  people.  A  gene- 
rous project  was  suggested  to  the  mind- of  the  Duchess  of 
Alenqon  ;  it  was,  to  cross  the  sea,  or  traverse  the  Pyrenees, 
and  rescue  Francis  I.  from  the  power  of  Charles  V.  Such 
was  the  object  to  which  her  thoughts  were  henceforth 
directed. 

Margaret  announced  her  intention,  and  France  hailed  it 
with  grateful  acclamation.  Her  genius,  her  great  reputation, 
and  the  attachment  existing  between  herself  and  her  brother, 
helped  much  to  counterbalance,  in  the  eyes  of  Louisa  and  of 
Duprat,  her  partiality  for  the  n§w  doctrines.  All  eyes  were 
turned  upon  her.  as  the  only  person  capable  of  extricating  the 
nation  from  its  perilous  position.  Let  Margaret  in  person 
make  an  appeal  to  the  powerful  emperor  and  his  ministers, 
and  employ  the  admirable  genius  with  which  she  was  gifted, 
in  the  effort  to  give  liberty  to  her  brother  and  her  king. 

Yet  very  various  feelings  existed  among  the  nobility  and 
the  people  in  the  prospect  of  the  Duchess  trusting  herself  in 
the  centre  of  the  enemies'  councils,  and  among  the  stern 
soldiery  of  the  Catholic  king.  All  admired,  but  without  shar- 
ing in  her  confidence  and  devotedness :  her  friends  had  fears 
for  her,  which,  in  the  result,  were  but  too  near  being  realized: 
but  the  evangelical  party  were  full  of  hope.  The  king's  cap- 
tivity had  been  to  them  the  occasion  of  hitherto  unprecedented 
severities — his  restoratioij^  to  liberty  they  expected  would  put 
a  period  to  those  rigours.  Let  the  king  once  find  himself 
beyond  the  Spanish  frontier, — and   the  gates  of  those  prison 

*  .  .  .  .  Beneficio  illustrissimae  Ducus  Alanconiae.  (Toussaint  a 
Farel.) 


Margaret's  resolution.  503 

houses  and  castles,  wherein  the  servants  of  God's  word  were 
immured,  would  instantly  be  set  open.  Margaret  was  more 
and  more  confirmed  in  a  project  to  which  she  felt  herself  drawn 
by  so  many  and  various  motives. 

.  My  heart  is  fixed ;  and  not  the  heavens  above 
From  its  firm  purpose  can  my  spirit  move; 
Nor  hell,  with  ali  its  powers,  my  course  withstand, 
For  Jesus  holds  its  keys  within  his  hand.* 

Her  woman's  heart  was  strengthened  with  that  faith  which 
overcomes  the  world,  and  her  resolution  was  irrevocably 
settled.  Preparation  was  accordingly  made  for  her  journey. 
The  archbishop  of  Embrun,  afterwards  cardinal  of  Tour- 
non,  and  the  president  of  Selves,  had  aheady  repaired  to  Ma- 
drid to  treat  for  the  ransom  of  the  king.  They  were  placed 
under  the  direction  of  Margaret,  as  was  also  the  bishop  of 
Tarbes,  afterwards  cardinal  of  Grammoni;  full  powers  being 
given  to  the  Princess.  At  the  same  time  Montmorency  after- 
wards so  hostile  to  the  Reformation,  was  despatched  in  haste 
to  Spain  to  solicit  a  safe-conduct  for  the  king's  sister. f  The 
Emperor  at  first  hesitated,  alleging  that  it  was  for  his  minis- 
ters to  arrange  terms. — "One  hour's  confeience  between  your 
majesty,  the  king  my  master,  and  Madame  d'Alenqon,"  re- 
marked Selves,  "would  forward  matters  more  than  a  month's 
discussion  between  the  diplomatists.":}:  Margaret,  impatient 
to  attain  her  object,  spt  out  unprovided  with  a  safe-conduct, 
accompanied  by  a  splendid  retinue.^  She  took  leave  of  the 
court  and  passed  throu^'^h  Lyons,  taking  the  direction  of  the 
Mediterranean  ;  but  on  her  road  she  was  joined  by  Montmo- 
rency, who  was  the  bearer  of  letters  from  Charles,  guaran- 
teeing her  liberty  for  a  period  of  three  months.     She  reijched 

*  Marguerites  de  la  Marguerite  des  princesses,  tom.  i.  p.  125 

t  Memoires  de  Du  F>i-ll  iv,  p.  1-24. 

J  Histoire  de  France,  par  '   jtniier,  tom.  xxiv 

§  Pour  taster  au  vii"  la  v.ijunte  de  I'esleu  empereur  .  .  .  madame 
MarjTuerite,  duchesse  d'Alencon,  tres-notablement  aocompaignee  de 
plusieurs  ambassadeurs  .  .  .  (Les  gestes  de  Francoise  de  Valois,  par  E, 
Dolet,  1540.) 


504  SHE  SAILS  FOR  SPAIN. 

Aigues-Mortes,*  and  at  that  port  the  sister  of  Francis  the  First 
embarked  on  board  a  vessel  prepared  for  her.  Led  by  Provi- 
dence into  Spain  rather  for  the  deliverance  of  nameless  and 
oppressed  Christians,  than  for  the  liberation  of  the  powerful 
monarch  of  France,  Margaret  committed  herself  to  that  sea 
whose  waves  had  borne  her  brother  when  taken  prisoner  after 
the  fatal  battle  of  Pavia. 

*  Jam  in  itinere  erat  Margarita,  Francisci  soror  .  .  e  fossis  Marianis 
solvens,  Barcinonem  primum,  deinde  Csesar  Augustum  appulerat.  (Bel- 
carius,  Rerum  Gallicarum  Comment,  p.  565.) 


END    OF    VOL.    IIL 


Date  Due 

' 

i 
1 

1 

f 

^ 


BW1840.M562V.3 

History  of  the  great  reformation  of  the 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00079  1410 


^"M 


l!ii-H.> 


